


Out In Front

by dixiehellcat



Series: Wordsmith [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Tower, Avengers use their words, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon-Typical Violence, Coulson Lives, F/M, Flirting, Gen, Mind Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unexpected Visitors, a little timeline hanky-panky, because spoilers, less dying than you might expect, no inappropriate blame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-11-15 15:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18076193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiehellcat/pseuds/dixiehellcat
Summary: The time frame of Age of Ultron, in the Wordsmith verse. Tony and Steve both have more than ample drive to want HYDRA destroyed, and the other Avengers follow their lead, but the evil fascists' experiments create a whole new set of problems for the team. One's fast, one's weird, and one wants to kill everybody. Chrissy deploys her formidable word skills to help, new allies appear, and unexpected talents manifest in old friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to book 6 of the Wordsmith cycle! We continue to veer off the canon road in some significant areas, while following the basic direction of the MCU verse. As you may expect if you're read the previous episodes, many of the same things will happen, but not in the same order or exactly the same way. 
> 
> I'm tagging things now as 'Avengers all media' because of bringing elements in from the comics that I like or that support the narrative here (such as Clint's hearing impairment, and the Maximoffs' Jewish heritage).
> 
> The title of this story tells a little about how things will go: while the Avengers struggle with Ultron, Chrissy works to get out in front of public criticism, shape opinions, and be as open as possible while not blowing people's minds. In private, she does the same thing, and while it doesn't always turn out as she anticipates, she is determined to reach out, tell the truth, and protect those she cares for.
> 
> More tags will appear as the story progresses, because if I put them all up there now it would spoil some of the fun.

When I told Pepper, after the takedown of the HYDRA element within SHIELD, that I almost felt sorry for them, I didn’t know the half of it. 

Let me share a recipe. Take one (1) Steve Rogers, super soldier, who recently found out his lifelong best friend Bucky Barnes, long presumed dead, was a living, breathing assassin brainwashed by an international fascist cabal. Add one (1) Tony Stark, genius, who just learned that his parents died, not in a car wreck caused by his drunken father, but at the hand of the aforementioned brainwashed assassin, at the order of that selfsame fascist cabal. Then add assorted other superheroes who, as different as they were, had two things in common—horror at what their team leaders had lost to their foes, and whole-hearted support for Tony and Steve. Pour into a Manhattan tower, mix well, and let simmer. Result: whatever was left of HYDRA was up shit creek with no paddle in sight.

This was a good thing for the world in general, but like every situation, it did have its negatives. Steve and Tony were united in their determination to destroy every trace of HYDRA, and the other Avengers were almost as single-minded, but that meant it was sometimes hard for them to refocus when other issues needed their attention. That left me, as their PR manager, to spend a good bit of time over most of a year explaining to media outlets everything from why the team wasn’t available to light the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree to the reason it took them several hours to arrive in Indonesia to wrestle an aquatic dinosaur back into the portal through which it had fallen (more multiverse shenanigans).

“There are only six of them,” I reminded a CNN host one night, “and only a couple can fly without an airplane. They’re looking at recruiting new Avengers, maybe even establishing a second squad based elsewhere. Right now, they’re doing all they can do to keep earth safe.”

The team had targeted a number of HYDRA’s North American hideouts, only to find the places already cleared out and usually blown to smithereens. Incriminating and informational files, thumb drives, and the like were often left in some thoughtfully conspicuous location for them to find. Steve and I suspected it was Bucky, Steve so much so that the last two times it had happened I had heard over my monitoring of the team comms as he walked the grounds calling his buddy’s name with no reply. It was so sad, and I prayed every night for Bucky’s safety and Steve’s sanity.

Over the past few weeks, though, their mystery backup had vanished like the ghost Natasha called him. Steve fretted, worried that a stray HYDRA loyalist had cornered Bucky and hurt or recaptured him. That didn’t bear thinking about; if they got their hands on him again, they could use the triggering commands they had implanted in him, to override his will and make him again the ruthless Winter Soldier. More prayers were called for.

I felt a little bit responsible for the current state of affairs. It was, after all, partly the information revealed in the notes of my psycho ex, the HYDRA op, that was leading the team on a world tour taking down enemy bases with extreme prejudice and little time for much of anything else. In particular, Tony’s fixation on avenging his mom and dad’s murders was consuming his life. Add to that the fact that with SHIELD gone to ground, the Avengers were functioning more independently. Steve still directed them in the field, but Tony had stepped up and taken the primary role of running the team on a day-to-day basis. Stark Industries and even Pepper were taking a back seat. (I had no right to ask his therapist, but I had always suspected there was at least a touch of OCD in his makeup.) Pepper insisted she understood, but I could see what she did her best to hide. Before I was Christine Everhart, director of PR, marketing and social media for the Avengers, I was Chrissy, Pepper’s friend. She was tired, and lonely, and it hurt to see it. I did all I could to be there for her, but she was on the road so much now, flying to conferences and meetings all over the world, taking up the slack for Tony.

Things felt like they might be coming to a head soon, though, and with that, a return to a more normal schedule, if you could call anything the team did normal. One thing the Avengers were searching for almost as intently as Bucky Barnes was the scepter confiscated from Thor’s brother Loki after his failed attempt to lead the alien Chitauri to conquer earth. SHIELD had lost it to its adversary, so every HYDRA base the team hit was scoured for any trace. Finally, they had gotten a lead, provided by Maria Hill through a contact she refused to name. The lead took them to the last remaining major site on their hit list, a research base in the small, war-torn Eastern European nation of Sokovia. I resolved not to think about what kind of ‘research’ a crew descended from Nazis might get up to there. Thanks to the notes I had liberated from Simon, they knew going in that somebody HYDRA called their ‘miracle twins’ was there. Bruce suspected it might be experimental subjects, so the team was moving with extreme caution, and Tony called in his Iron Legion of semi-automatic suits run by JARVIS to evacuate the local population for safety’s sake.

Sure enough, two people with apparent superpowers confronted them during the raid, a male moving with super-speed and a female who had unnerving mental powers. Pepper was at a conference in Argentina, but I listened in on the comms with Maria, who immediately started accessing SHIELD files to identify the attackers. By the time the Avengers got home, she had more background. They actually were twins, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Orphaned at age ten during one of the interminable skirmishes in their homeland, the Jewish youngsters had, according to Maria, volunteered to work with HYDRA. She was appalled, but I could see why, if they wanted to do something to serve their homeland, they might have been fooled into cooperating.

Steve agreed with me. “Wouldn’t be the first time somebody let a German scientist do crazy experiments on them to help protect their country,” he said wryly as I rode up the elevator with him to check on the rest of my friends.

Clint was the only Avenger significantly hurt in the raid. Tony called on Helen Cho, a brilliant scientist, to treat him using some amazing tech she had developed that expanded the concept behind the three-D printed bone Tony and Bruce had created for Tony’s chest. She basically regenerated Clint’s injured tissue, and in no time, the worst he had to deal with was Nat cussing him out in Russian for being careless, until he pulled his hearing aids out, poked them in his pocket, and calmly sipped on the smoothie Tony had brought him.

Tony headed back to the joint lab to hole up with Bruce and analyze the scepter. I had a press conference scheduled, to announce the end of major operations against the force that had almost destroyed a major intelligence organization. I also casually mentioned the party the Avengers were throwing on Saturday night to celebrate their successful mission completion, just so, as I explained, if anybody saw lightning or explosions from the peak of the tower that night, people wouldn’t freak out.

That job in the bag, I moseyed up to the lab, to get a look at this infamous scepter. When the elevator doors opened, the first sound that met my ears was Tony’s voice, raised in his typical ‘I’m excited because science’ tone. “—if we can harness this power, apply it to my Iron Legion protocol—" 

“That's a mad-sized if,” Bruce replied as I entered the main workspace.

“Our job is ‘if.’ What if you were sipping margaritas on a sun-drenched beach, turning brown instead of green? Not looking over your shoulder for VERONICA.”

“Don't hate, I helped design VERONICA.”

“As a worst-case measure, right? How about a best-case? What if the world was safe? What if next time aliens roll up to the club—and they will—they couldn't get past the bouncer?” 

I briefly tuned out the science bros’ debate, walking over to look at the scepter where it lay on a worktable. Its sharply pointed length was dangerously attractive and its blue stone glowed softly, almost pulsing. More interesting, though, were two amazing holograms hovering in mid-air nearby. One was a rich ruddy gold, structured precisely as a crystal; the other sparkled sky blue with motes of light streaking around in wild abandon. “Okay, what have y’all cooked up this time?” I marveled.

“Nothing yet,” Tony said. “Maybe something incredible, though. This—” he indicated the blue gram—“is what’s inside the scepter. By comparison, the other one is JARVIS. It’s code, essentially. The biggest, strongest code I’ve ever seen, almost as complex as a neuronal net. If we can figure out how to extract it, it’s capable of turning the Iron Legion from automatons to true artificial intelligences. It can make our Ultron project into reality and protect the earth.”

Bruce looked unconvinced. “And you don't want to tell the team.”

“Not yet,” Tony argued, “and you know why, Brucie-bear. We don't have time for a city hall debate. I don't want to hear the ‘man was not meant to meddle’ medley. I see a suit of armor around the world.”

“Sounds like a cold world, Tony.” Bruce shook his head.

“I've seen colder,” Tony retorted. “This one, this very vulnerable blue one? It needs Ultron. _Da pacem Domine in diebus nostris._ Peace in our time. Imagine that.”

“But trying to tap into this, when you don’t even know what it is exactly, or where it came from?” I understood Tony's concern--he was the one who had seen space, had seen the Chitauri fleet looming over earth. What I didn’t understand was what had him so abruptly hell-bent on jumping into bed with this inexplicably advanced thing. “Steve told me about that scepter. It’s what influenced all of your minds on the helicarrier, tried to turn you against each other so it could use you. Hell, it’s what let Loki turn Clint against y’all, and Thor seems to think it might even have been forcing Loki himself to do its damn bidding. I wouldn’t trust it as far as I could drop-kick it. Study it, Tony, take it apart—metaphorically speaking, I mean—tease out what you can comprehend, and use that, sure. But using it as-is, that’s like drinking water straight from a contaminated tap and not even bothering to test it first.”

“There’s no time.” Tony repeated and shook his head, almost frantic. “We only have it for three days, Thor’s taking it to Asgard after the party. The threat is out there, and it’s coming. We don’t know when, and I—we’ve got to be ready, I’ve got to do everything I can—”

“As much as you want to protect,” I pointed out, “using untested, unknown power could cause more problems than it solves.”

“You’re right, Chrissy,” Bruce agreed. “I didn’t really know how to put it, but as usual, your superpower helped.” I grinned. “Leaping without looking works for you sometimes, Tony, I know, but this is so much bigger than just you, or even just the Avengers.”

Tony paced across the lab with his hands in his hair. Then, without warning, he rounded on me. “You don’t have any say in this,” he snapped. “Stick to wrangling media hacks, and stay out of the science. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Your brain isn’t jacked into HAL, and you have no idea what’s at stake. I do!”

I gaped. Tony had never insulted me like that, or even discounted my opinion, and a flush of irritation swept through me. “Let me remind you, smarty-pants, that I’m the one you trust to trot out in front of the media hacks and explain what happens when you bust shit up and people want to know why and want you held responsible for it.”

“Fine!” He stormed across the lab and thrust a finger in my face. “But maybe sometimes I don’t need somebody mopping up behind me. Maybe sometimes I don’t need to be mother-henned to death. Or henpecked, or—fuck hens, whatever. Maybe, just maybe, and stay with me for a sec, maybe I know what the fuck I’m doing sometimes! Maybe I’ve seen things other people haven’t.”

“Yeah, maybe you have,” I retorted, moving forward until he was almost poking my nose, too irritated to try my usual de-escalation of hostilities. Hell, I’d never had to use it on Tony before. “At least you’re using your damn words for a change. Nice to know what you really think of me.” Behind me I heard Bruce’s voice, low and urgent, but blocked it out, focused on the furious man in front of me. Anger made my skin tingle. “Folks are right when they say, be careful what you wish for, though. Here you are flopping your jaws, and right now I wouldn’t halfway mind shutting you up.” 

A vicious little smirk twisted Tony’s mouth, and he advanced until I was backed up against the nearest work surface, and half bent backwards over it. “I just bet,” he hissed. “You think too much about those tabloid rumors about a threesome? You, me and Pepper?”

“Hell no, and you best not be. Pepper’d kill you. You’re pussy-whipped.” I pushed, but the angle was bad, and he stood his ground, grabbing my wrists and pressing them down to my sides. I had time for one instant of white-hot rage before a huge hand appeared in my line of sight and clamped around Tony’s throat. Thor hauled him back away from me, shouting in Asgardian. I sagged against the countertop behind me and caught my breath, ready to resume the battle, but trying to recall exactly what the battle was about. Wiping sweat off my forehead with a shaky hand, I thought hard. Tony and I had been arguing—how in sam hill did that get started, anyway? It wasn’t right.

Across the lab, Tony’s feet were still totally clear of the floor. His eyes were bugged out as Thor held him up easily with one big arm, still berating him. Bruce started toward him, but Natasha, who had evidently come in with Thor—and Steve, who was standing to one side, just observing—pushed him back. “Serves Stark right, he’s weak,” she said, and Bruce started quarreling with her.

None of this seemed right. I was furious with Tony, but not enough to stand by and let his teammate choke him out. Pushing away from the table, I started toward Thor, to call him off. At least I tried to, but I only took a couple of steps before I reeled in sudden pain and my knees went out from under me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A commenter (waves to zedille) asked about Tony's 'peace in our time' line, which has troubled folks. I looked it up, and what Tony says is actually not the line people think it is! Everybody (myself included, initially) thinks he's quoting Neville Chamberlain after attempting to treat with Hitler; but what Chamberlain said was 'peace FOR our time'. The quote 'peace IN our time' is from an ancient Latin hymn, the Prayer for Peace: _Give peace in our time, o Lord_.
> 
> Now, I don't know if the writers of the AoU script did that on purpose or not, but in-verse, Tony's brain works a lot better than mine, and I would just bet he was thinking of that much older reference. I headcanon that his mom being Italian was likely Catholic, and for all his atheistic professing, it's fairly certain he was exposed to that faith as a child. That sentiment also resonates with his line earlier in the script where Helen says she's trying to put him out of business and he says that's what he's hoping; also, his later lines to Steve, "Isn't that the "why" we fight, so we can end the fight, so we get to go home?" Tony wants peace, so desperately. So leaving that line in was a deliberate thing. 
> 
> After some thought and discussion, I added the Latin, so there's no mistaking what he's referring to. :) I had to type it with my brain though, because I thought a little too hard about Robert Downey Jr. speaking Latin, and I am now a melted puddle of goo. hehe


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprising rescuer frees the team from the scepter's influence. Tony reveals a frightening secret.

Just for the record, the feeling of one’s skull bouncing off a tile floor with a dull thonk like thumping a ripe watermelon’s belly with your finger is not fun at all. I rolled into a ball, my eyes screwed shut and my head feeling like it was being crushed. The pressure seemed to come from outside me, from someplace above me and to one side, but I couldn’t focus through the agony to locate it, or make my mouth work to give a warning. JARVIS’ voice cut through the din, then another call: a sharper voice, Clint’s. _Isn’t he supposed to be resting_ , I thought hazily, _he got hurt, he shouldn’t be here, with everybody yelling…stop yelling, y’all, hush…_

Somewhere near me, a scuffle broke out. I tried to get up, or even just lift my head to see, but the effort was too much. I moaned, pain erupting behind my eyes. My scalp throbbed and burned; I felt as if something within me was pushing back against the force pressing from without.

There was a succession of crashes and bangs, and then blessed silence. The agony in my head began to fade, like the echo of a big church bell’s gong. Feet rushed toward me, followed by a more solid thump on the floor beside me and a hoarse croak of my name. I pried my eyes open to see unsteady hands hovering above my shoulders. Above them, Tony’s face was stricken and pale. I reached up and closed my hands around his, and he pulled my head into his lap where he knelt. “What the hell was that?” I got out.

“The fucking scepter, that’s what,” Clint spat, standing behind Tony. “Glowing like neon, had all of you at each other’s throats.”

“I detected an anomalous energy emanating from its focal center,” JARVIS concurred, “but I could not attract any of your attentions, until Agent Barton arrived.”

“Looks like we made a good team, J,” Clint’s little grin was sardonic. “It couldn’t nail me again, I guess. Maybe Loki did me a favor and immunized me. I couldn’t recalibrate everybody at once the way Nat did me though, so—” He flung one hand toward the far end of the lab. “I chucked it in the Hulk booth. Gamma radiation shielding surely to shit ought to keep it to itself.”

“The damn thing screwed with us once,” Steve sounded as angry as Clint. “It’s not gonna do that again. Thor, get it the hell off earth, now.”

Tony started to scramble to his feet. The sudden motion threw me into a dizzy freakout; the world began to pitch around me again and I reached out blindly for support, an involuntary “No…” escaping me. 

He stopped and looked down at me and made a sound I didn’t recall ever hearing from him, frightened and small. “Steve, no, I need—you promised me the time, I’ve got to have it—what’s coming, I saw it, I saw all of you—"

As long as I was taking up space in his lap, I thought he’d stay put, so even though the spinning in my head was starting to resolve, I didn’t move. Steve stepped closer and started to argue, but froze when Tony gasped and hunched forward over me, his eyes wide with sudden panic. I reacted without thought, and fought through the wooziness to start talking him through. ”Tony, hey, listen to me, we’ve done this before, right? Let’s breathe, you remember how.” 

It was the first anxiety attack he had had in ages. By the time he had worked through it, I was more settled too. I already had his hands clasped between mine, so I started to sit up and he helped. “What’s wrong, hot rod?” I said with all the gentleness I could convey. “What did you see? What is it, all of a sudden, that’s got you so worked up?”

He shook his head. I glanced around and realized the other Avengers had inched closer. Thor looked baffled, Steve concerned, Bruce horrified. Clint’s fingers twitched as if he wanted to fight something but didn’t have an opponent to fight. Natasha crouched beside us, her normal cool showing a crack or two. “I killed you,” Tony finally rasped. Thor winced, guilt replacing puzzlement on his face. “When I went after the scepter, I saw it. A vision, of all of you, dead, from another alien invasion. The team, Rhodey, Happy, Pep and Chrissy… I felt it. The whole world, too. It was because of me. I wasn't ready. I didn't do all I could…”

“Tony,” Bruce gasped after a moment. “The scepter, we know what it does. It was working you, playing on your fear, tricking you to get what it wanted—”

“I wasn't tricked!” Tony yelled, finally raising his head. “I was shown. It wasn't a nightmare, it was my legacy. The end of the path I started us on.” 

Steve moved forward again, more carefully now, and knelt next to Tony. “You've come up with some pretty impressive inventions, Tony, but believe me when I say war isn't one of them.”

“I saw you die, Steve,” Tony almost whispered, “and the last thing you said to me, on your last breath, was ‘you could’ve saved us, why didn’t you do more’—”

Steve’s fair face went absolutely white. “No, Tony, no.” He put an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “You know me! Any messes I get into, I walk in with eyes wide open. I would never blame you, never.”

“I watched my friends die,” Tony sounded so tired all of a sudden. “You'd think that'd be as bad as it gets, right? Nope. Wasn't the worst part.”

Natasha leaned forward, a light of comprehension kindling in her eyes. “The worst part,” she said softly, “is that we died, and you didn't. Right?”

Tony took a shaky inhalation, and nodded slightly. The lab was silent, as though the very room held its breath. “Let’s get out of here,” Steve finally said. “I don’t want any of us any closer to that damn thing than we have to be.”

“Language,” Tony returned, his voice a bit stronger and his wit coming back. (Steve had made a crack on the comms during a mission when Tony cussed, and the team had yet to let him live it down.) 

With a small laugh, Steve helped him to his feet, and Nat helped me, or tried to. My damn legs did not want to cooperate. Thor approached me and put out a hand, and Tony flinched, then sucked in a breath and tried to put on his game face. The look of guilt overtook Thor’s face again. “Friend Anthony, I cannot say how regretful I am for allowing that accursed magic to seize my senses. I pray you can forgive me, sometime; for now I will stay clear of you, and let you heal. Lady Christine, may I assist you?”

The group shuffled to the elevator, and by unspoken consensus ended up on the common floor. I didn’t have much say in the direction, being swept up in an Asgardian god’s beefy arms. “I believe,” Thor murmured in my ear, as quietly as he possibly could, which wasn’t very, as a rule, “that Anthony will be steadier if he can address his energies to your service.” 

Tony was slumped in the middle of the largest couch. I nodded, and next thing I knew, I was being piled bodily into his lap. Not exactly what I had in mind, but it worked on the lab floor, so I just rested my head against his shoulder and didn’t argue. Almost automatically, he slipped one arm behind my back and didn’t offer to move away. “You okay?” I asked quietly while the others arranged themselves in seats around the common room and dropped like puppets with the strings cut. 

When I didn’t get an immediate answer, I lifted my head. Tony’s gaze was intent, fixed on me. “I didn’t mean it,” he said. “Not a word. You know that, right?”

I nodded. Steve had implied the scepter had amplified their existing tensions before, driven them to say out loud things they had buried. If Tony occasionally thought I was bossy or nosy, I could hardly blame him. “I’m sorry if you feel like I’m mother-henning you. I don’t mean to, and I promise I will try to do better. I just care—"

He groaned under his breath. “That’s not it. It, chafes, I guess? Not that kind of chafing,” he chided when I giggled lightly. “Quit making it weird. More like, I know I need that push sometimes. Somebody to, like you say, make me straighten up and fly right. And it pisses me off because I know I need it, and I don’t like that I need it, but I’m glad for it. I’m glad for you. it’s like Pep, except not at all like Pep.” His free hand waved around. “That makes no sense, I know. Still not so good with the feelings thing.”

“I think you’re doing fine with the ‘feelings thing’,” I replied, “and that makes perfect sense. There are ideas that sound totally different coming from a friend than from a lover. Assuming you aren’t the one thinking too much about threesomes,” I added puckishly.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped. “I did say that, didn’t I? Don’t tell Potts. You were right, she _will_ kill me, and I _am_ pussy-whipped.”

“Are not. You respect the shit out of her, and it’s awesome.”

“Am so, and damn proud of it. So much so, that anybody else in our bed would be a hard no. I’m selfish, remember? You keep arguing with the press about that, but I really am. I want all her attention, which means no third wheel. Especially not you. If either of us even brought that up, we’d both end up laughing until we needed oxygen, because I know you and Pep are like sisters, and you and me, it’s, I mean, it’s not—unless you wanted it, and sorry, but I still couldn’t—the Stark Missile wouldn’t launch, okay?” He huffed. “Don’t get me wrong, Chrissy, you’re beautiful, but—”

It was kind of fun watching him verbally flounder, but serious talk needed to be had among the team, so I figured I’d better put him out of his misery quickly. “Me neither,” I assured him. “You mean the world to me, Tony, and you are gloriously attractive, but no, I have no yen whatsoever to dance around your Maypole.”

A small squeak of laughter escaped him. “Thank fuck.”

“So if you aren’t interested in it, why—”

“I was scared you were,” he muttered. “Awkward.”

Clint flopped onto the couch at my feet and hauled them into his lap; Nat perched on Tony’s other side and gave my hair a gentle stroke. Absently, I was reminded of Tony’s comment about being everybody’s pet. It wasn’t my usual position among this group, but it certainly wasn’t uncomfortable. I just patted Tony’s chest and settled. “So,” Steve spoke up from his spot half buried in a big armchair, and everybody’s attention turned to him, as promptly as if he had formally gaveled a meeting to order. “What brought this on? it—the scepter just shut me down. I was watching, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but I couldn’t force myself to move.”

“It turned us on each other the other time,” Nat said slowly, clearly thinking, “but none of us had the physical reaction then that Chrissy did just now.” She tapped the crown of my head. “Perhaps that was because you are the token squishy baseline human.” 

I winced. “Maybe—should I move out, y’all? First Simon and now this—it seems like I’m the weakest link in the Tower. I won’t let anybody or anything use me to get to you. So if I have to—"

A surprising chorus of objections replied from every corner. Steve leaned forward. “I think I speak for the whole team on this, Chris. If you don’t feel safe here, and you want to leave, nobody would stop you, of course.” He glared briefly, the look aimed somewhere behind me, and I wondered what kind of face Tony had just made. “But we need baseline humans around us. We need you around, on another level than just the work you do for us. Back there the scepter had me frozen, passive, but when you collapsed, it jolted me out; I realized something was very wrong. Maybe you’re kind of our canary in the coal mine, you know? And,” he finished with a hint of his usual smile peeking out at last, “if you’re worried you’re somehow putting us at risk, I’m pretty sure you aren’t.”

Bruce shifted uneasily where he sat in a wing chair on the other side of Natasha. Tony’s head lifted, and they exchanged a look. I knew what he was thinking, but if Bruce didn’t tell them what the science bros were debating, dammit, I would. “I think,” Bruce said finally, “this is all fitting together. We found something inside the scepter, almost an artificial intelligence. We were talking about possible utilization approaches, when Chrissy came into the lab. She started playing devil’s advocate, and…I’m wondering now, if that made it—angry, sort of. No, hear me out,” he said with hand raised as more protests started to sound. “Tony, the vision you described at the HYDRA base—you were right in front of the scepter. What if it did that, if it wanted you to bring it here? What if it’s trying to manipulate you to use it? And what if, when Chrissy started pointing out the problems with yo—our ideas, it took action to negate the threat she posed?”

“We all know damn well you’d never lay a hand on her,” Clint put in while rubbing my arches, “but the scepter wants control. I mean, not like it’s a living thing—but from what you said, Bruce, maybe it kind of is? When the others came in, it just went into default setting, sort of; started sowing chaos and discord.” His fingers tightened, obviously thinking about the awful personal experience from whence he spoke.

I looked up at Tony. “It makes sense,” I said. “The code you were extracting did look chaotic, even more so when you put it up next to JARVIS’. All that combines to make it absolutely the most wrong thing imaginable to run your project. Can you imagine an intellect geared toward command placed in the position of—”

“It’d be like having a really, really bad dominatrix running a heavy scene.” As usual, Tony’s wit was on point, as was his gift for misdirection. He still didn’t want the rest of the team to know what he’d been contemplating, and I didn’t think that was good.

“I yield to your wealth of experience in that field,” I teased, then hugged him. “It’s gonna be okay, Tony. You’ve got your friends, and some idea what caused your hallucination, and you know what not to use for Ultron.”

A flicker of a glare crossed his face. _Sorry, not sorry_ , I thought. “Wait, you were thinking about using fuckin’ Loki’s fondue fork to power a worldwide network of robosuits?” Clint demanded.

“We were talking!” Tony retorted. “About how it would work, and whether we could even—” He shook his head vehemently. “It wouldn’t. Work, that is. That's obvious now. Even I’m not that desperate. Not yet, anyway. I won’t use a discarnate game-player that’s trying to make me hurt the people that’re important to me, but we can study it, figure out how it’s made, then use that knowledge to make a suitable AI, a service dom instead of a power top. Ultron’s still needed. The threat is out there, and I’ve got to be ready.”

“We,” Thor said from his crouch nearby, in a tone that allowed for no argument. “We have to be ready. Whatever threatens earth, you will not face it alone, Anthony. When I return the scepter to Asgard, I will speak with my father about initiating the process of establishing formal alliance with earth. The other realms should be brought into that circle as well, and other planets too. The Chitauri cannot have only targeted earth, and any other victims should be more than willing to make common cause with a world that fought them off successfully. You will not be alone in preparation for future invasion, nor will the Avengers or your world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you will recognize some of the dialogue in this scene, moved here from a later conversation, because reasons. Mostly because things would go very differently if people would just use their dang words appropriately and in a timely manner, argh. And of course, the Avengers of this verse have had more practice at that than their canon counterparts, so, here ya go.
> 
> I submit that a team who trust and care for each other the way these folks do would not behave the same as a team that never learned that trust. Specifically: a commenter mentioned in the previous story that the whole mess with HYDRA, Bucky and the Starks turned out much better because in this verse, Tony is surrounded by people who value him and recognize his feelings as valid. We see that again in this chapter; the other Avengers don't blow his fear off, and instead start coming up with alternate approaches to address his concern.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers make a plan, and their party gets crashed.

The team debated a while longer, what one of my uncles used to call cussing and discussing. Finally, with some hesitation, everybody agreed to Tony’s plea to keep the scepter until the party so he and Bruce could analyze the embedded code. “If we can figure out what’s running it, maybe we can strip out the undesirable traits and keep the others. Give it a little brain-wash, if you will, tumble dry, and then we can use our nice clean fresh-smelling artificial intelligence for—whatever.”

“As long as 'whatever' doesn’t include Ultron,” Steve sighed. “Don’t panic, Tony. Thor’s right, it’s past time we got some off-world allies. That’s our best path forward. What you saw, I realize it unsettled you, but it wasn’t real. It’s not gonna happen. We are not all gonna die and leave you in the lurch.”

“You really think we’d let your ass off that easy, shellhead?” Clint chimed in. I toed him in the belly and he grunted.

Tony still looked anxious, but from where I still sat sideways across his lap, leaning against him, I could feel his tension begin to ease. “Fine,” he huffed. “Let’s not talk about that in front of the thing, though. If it thinks it’s getting its way, it’s pulled one over on us, it’ll be pacified. That means _you_ ,” he shook me slightly, “and your logic steer clear until we put this to bed.” 

“And _you_ ,” Bruce countered, pointing at Tony, “don’t need to be in the lab with it alone. For that matter, neither do I.” The rest of the team agreed. Tony pretended to pout, briefly, but there was actually a little relief in his eyes; as if the scepter, or what was in it, frightened him more than he could admit aloud.

For all the logic behind it, I still felt like I’d been banished for the next three days. I didn’t even get off on the lab floor for fear of stirring something up. It was like hosting an unwelcome haunt! Tony and Bruce hardly left their lair, working around the clock to pack as much research into what few hours they had, and the other Avengers checked in with them constantly. On the afternoon of the party, I was directing traffic, figuratively speaking; with Pepper still in Argentina, I had volunteered to coordinate the setup, so I was checking on the bar setup and the caterers, mentally counting the seats on the party deck and comparing to the number of butts on the guest list, when the prodigal science bros appeared. “Hello strangers. Any developments?”

Tony shook his head. “We’ve turned the piece of shit upside down. No luck.”

“It’s not like it’s our only option,” Bruce reassured him. “Don’t worry. JARVIS is going to keep running variations on the interface, and if he finds any scenario that’s functional he’ll call us.” He slapped Tony lightly on the shoulder. “Now calm down and enjoy the party.”

“Likewise,” Tony retorted, but with no real heat behind it and a genial poke to Bruce’s ribs. “I expect to see you and Natasha salsa dancing before the night is out.”

“Why would you wish smashed toes on her? I thought you two were friends!”

I left them to their banter and finished my cat-herding routine, then fled to my floor to clean up and get dressed for the party (nothing overly fancy, just a cute tunic top and leggings with some awesome shoes I scored on a shopping escapade with Pepper). The designated party zone was starting to fill with everyone from local luminaries to a crew of World War 2 vets Steve had met during an appearance at a Bronx seniors’ center.

Thor and Tony were both missing their significant others (Jane was overseas presenting at an astrophysics conference); when others were around they joked and bragged, but when alone, they sat quietly side by side with almost identical wistful expressions. For a few minutes, I nestled between them with my drink and kept them company, until Rhodey arrived. “Go get the platypus, cornbread!” Tony mock-ordered. “When are you two gonna make up?”

“We aren’t mad!” I protested, but went and hauled him over. As if I was ever going to argue with a chance to spend time with Rhodey! We might not have been dating, but he was still one of my favorite people. We hung out for a while, Tony and Thor trolling Rhodey about his stories they had heard a dozen times (and me staunchly supporting him and laughing, even though I’d heard them almost that many times).

When Maria came over, hassled the guys, and then left with Rhodey (and wasn’t _that_ interesting? I mentally filed it away under Potential Matchmaking) I roamed the room playing semi-host. Sam was hassling Steve about some girl he could have brought to the party (she lived in DC and worked for the CIA, so she was off someplace blowing shit up, I figured). Natasha had sent the hired bartender off on a smoke break and taken over; Bruce was loitering there, probably trying to get up the nerve to say something. I heartily approved, and filed that away too. Thor was getting the veterans polluted on Asgardian mead, which was adorable.

As the party began to wind down and the invited guests took their leave, the Avengers and those of us adjacent to them settled on sofas together. I looked around me, at the people the press often called Earth’s mightiest heroes, and wondered at myself again. How was this my life, that legends and deities, the swift and cunning and brilliant, called me, who was none of those things, their friend? I supposed, as Steve had said, a squishy human had a place in the game too, and resolved not to overthink it.

I snacked and drank and laughed with them. Clint nearly ruptured something trying to lift Thor’s hammer, called Tony out for making fun of him, and then nearly ruptured something else laughing at Tony’s futile attempts (with and without the help of both his gauntlet and Rhodey). I had never heard Maria Hill giggle before. Steve almost got it to budge, but no more, and Bruce almost Hulked out in the effort. Nat wouldn’t even try. Helen Cho had joined us, and she and Tony threw out half a dozen scientific explanations, each one farther out than the one before. “It’s simple,” Thor said smugly and picked it up as easily as if it was made from foam rubber. “You’re all not worthy.”

“Bull-puckey,” I piped up. “They’re all worthy. Maybe they don’t _think_ they are, though, and that’s what it’s gauging.”

Thor eyed me with curiosity. “Now _that_ , lady Christine, that is an interesting theory. Care to put it to the test?” 

He held the massive weapon out toward me. “Oh no. No way Jose. I didn’t say I thought _I_ was worthy, I said I think all y’all are.”

I grinned, and so did he. “Oh fuck,” Tony groaned in mock-dismay, “this is gonna turn into one of those hours-long debates you two get into over soft-sci abstractions, isn’t it—”

Any reply Thor or I might have made was drowned out by the abrupt loud screech of metal on metal. I winced and covered my ears briefly, as did others, then looked around. The source of the noise appeared in a moment, in the form of an Iron Legion robot, staggering unsteadily into the sitting area. Tony blinked, then called to JARVIS and started trying to reboot the obviously defective suit. Instead of one of its usual canned responses, it began to actually speak. “Worthy, no, none of you are worthy, you are all killers.” It dragged itself closer, wires and metal rods exposed by its piecemeal skin, looking as much like a zombie as a mechanism could. “I was tangled in strings…had to kill the other guy, he was a good guy…” Mingled babble, snark, and snippets of recorded voices poured forth from it, and when it played back Tony’s comment from several days ago I put it together. Somehow, the chaotic code from the scepter’s stone had infiltrated the Legion’s systems, and brought Ultron to life—except not as a protector, or even as the illusory tyrant Tony had imagined, but as an unhinged maniac.

This was not good. The Avengers, every one of them, shifted in an instant; it was plain from the way they stood and moved, they were ready to take this threat on. The other combatant guests looked equally braced, but I wasn’t in that category. Neither was Helen. While Ultron verbally sparred with the team, I moved with caution, stepped back and got her down behind furniture, just before the rest of the Legion suits burst through the walls and attacked. We ducked and covered and stayed low until the combat started getting too close; then I nudged her and we crept away, ending behind the baby grand piano. One quick peek showed everybody engaged, Tony perched on one suit’s shoulders like a bull rider. I scanned the ruckus, up to a point—a point where my view was blocked suddenly by the hulking metallic form of Ultron practically on top of our hiding place. Swallowing a squeak, I shoved Helen aside, but the arm swinging downward wasn’t aimed at her. It grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.

“Hands off the merchandise!” I snapped and slapped at the ragged part-gauntlet clamped around my wrist.

“I know you.” Its voice had settled, and sounded unnervingly like an actor who was so good at playing serial killers that you shivered when you heard his voice, even if he was playing a friendly old bus driver: that calm, mildly amused tone. “You didn’t want me to see the light of day.”

“It wasn’t anything personal.” _Anger no good here, Chrissy_ , I told myself as I started to perspire. _Neither is fear. Keep your head. Keep him occupied, distract him; the gang will get it, they’ll use what you’re giving them._ If he focused on me, his hold on the Legion might weaken. _Don’t look away,_ I ordered. _Don’t give him any tells to read._ “We had no idea what you were. And I hate to admit it, but the way you’ve been acting a fool so far? You’re just confirming the suspicions. So why don’t you pull back on the reins a tad, and let’s talk about what—” I flinched at another crash, but this time I had a plan. “Y’all!” I groaned, aiming to convey annoyance and deploying my accent for fuller effect. “Could you hold it down, we’re trying to talk over here. Okay, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, and please, could you lighten up on the grip, seriously? Humans do bruise.”

The grasp eased but did not release, and the thin fingers played along my forearm in a way that made my skin crawl. “Yes, you do, don’t you? Some humans like that, I understand.”

“Well, this human sure as shit does not.” The crunches and wallops were less frequent. It sounded like the control this entity held over the Legion might be faltering.

“You’re warmer than I expected, too. Never touched a human before. Good to have new experiences.”

“It is. Now, how about we have a seat and confer about our expectations? The idea, Ultron—may I call you Ultron?—is for you to protect the earth—”

“I know you mean well, but you didn’t think it through. Humans are the problem with the earth!”

“Ooh, maybe I’m gonna get my esoteric debate in after all. Call your dogs off and c’mon! I can do this all night.” I tugged at the apparition’s arm and turned toward the nearest sofa, in an effort to keep his focus on me, and not on Thor and Steve who were creeping up from behind.

“You want to protect the world, but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve?” it planted its boots and jerked me back around to face it. Somebody made a noise of alarm; I didn’t see who, I was keeping my eyes on Ultron, but it sounded like Tony. “To evolve past being weak and manipulative, like you. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, how you’re trying to, shall we say, seduce my notice?”

“Seduce you?” I laughed in its freaky face. I wasn’t amused, but I was scared enough that it rolled over into laughter. “Honey, the only mechanical seduction I need is in my nightstand drawer and uses rechargeable Duracells. I’m not weak. Humans aren’t weak, and if you don’t get that through your tin head right quick, you ain’t long for this world. You were made by mortal hands, and you’ll be unmade by ‘em.”

“Like these puppets?” Ultron’s voice became a tinny snarl. It released my arm to bend down, grab one of the demolished Legionnaires and shake it as it lurched into a turn to face the Avengers. “There's only one path to peace: the Avengers’ and the human race’s extinction.” With a flick of one big wrist, Thor sent his hammer flying. I stumbled backward and tripped; Helen caught me as the jagged robotic form burst into pieces. The voice did not halt right away; instead, it began to sing snatches of the old Disney song about Pinocchio, in a chilling, crazy trill. “I had strings but now I’m free, no strings on meee…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers assess the damage caused by Ultron and start tracking him down. Chrissy overhears a chance conversation that may have profound results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As one might guess from previous chapters, this verse's team handles the aftermath of Ultron's hatching very differently than in canon...

I shuddered and pushed myself to my feet, in time to be caught and held up by Steve. “I’m okay,” I said to his earnest, worried look. 

“What were you thinking?” He gave me a little shake.

“I was distracting it! And trying to talk it down. Although if its consciousness derived from the code we saw, we have to remember the scepter was an alien weapon. Nothing in it was going to relate to humans, so that idea was shot in the ass from the get-go.” I grumped. “Worth a try, though. Shit. Only job on earth where a perfectly good work party gets fucked up by a damn killer robot. And don’t you dare say ‘language’ to me, mister.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve said dryly.

Everyone adjourned to the lab, where Tony and Bruce tried to figure out what the hell had transpired. Tony was beside himself, pacing around and pulling his hair. “We weren’t even close to an interface! There shouldn’t have been a way for it to insinuate itself into the OS. Where in fuck is it now?”

“It used the internet as an escape hatch,” Bruce said darkly as he manipulated screens in the air. “Took the scepter and all our work.” Rhodey and Maria wore matching looks of concern, and stepped out to make some calls and check on the security of vital things like nuclear launch codes.

A concern of my own occurred to me. “If it’s loose on the net, it could track anything and anybody, and since it’s got a grudge against y’all, it might go after those closest to you. Clint, Laura and the kids are off the grid anyway, right?” He gulped and grabbed for his phone.

“Tell her to turn the location function off on their cell phones,” Natasha chimed in. “Same message should go to Jane and Darcy, Thor, and to Pepper.”

“She’s using an SI jet but it was on autopilot,” I said. “I don’t think that’s safe now. Ultron could hack into it and bring it down. Tony, want me to contact transport and ask one of your pilots to get down there to fly her home?”

Tony’s nod was jerky. “How did it actuate? Unless the scepter code contained something like a reverse kill switch; it activated itself once it was tampered with. We didn’t have anything half functional.”

Steve stepped into the line of Tony’s pacing and made him stop. “Tony! It wasn’t your fault. We all agreed to let you and Bruce investigate it. if there was a trigger in it you couldn’t find, no human could be to blame, especially not you. I know you. Even as freaked out as you were, with something like this, when you gave us your word you’d take every reasonable precaution, you did.” From his station across the lab, Bruce nodded vigorously. “I also know,” Steve finished, taking hold of Tony’s stiff shoulders, “how you are, how you try to carry everything on your own back. Stop it. We are a team.”

Tony almost sagged into Steve’s grasp. “My head's so fucked, I can’t be sure what I did or didn’t do. That up there—” he glanced skyward. “What I saw was real. That’s the endgame, Cap. How are we planning to beat that?”

“Together,” Steve said in his firmest command voice. “It’s not just us, remember. Thor is bringing Asgard and their allies into the loop.” As if summoned by his name, Thor walked in just then and reported he had lost the enslaved Iron Legionnaire carrying the scepter. “Even if you don't trust yourself, Tony, _I_ trust you, so, go with me for a change here, okay? Right now, let’s concentrate on the scepter’s murder-child. Ultron's calling us out. Let’s find him before he's ready for us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Natasha agreed as Clint got off the phone, reassured his family was okay. Helen wanted to get back to her lab in Korea, promising that the security there would hold off anything, so when I called SI’s transportation division, I asked for a plane and pilot to take her home ASAP. “Ultron said he killed somebody—but nobody else was here,” Nat went on.

Tony sighed and stepped away from Steve, into the middle of the lab space. “Yeah, yeah, there was.” His hands moved through the air and called up an image, the golden lattice hologram that depicted JARVIS’ base code—except now, it was tattered like old lace and in shreds. 

The room gasped as one. “JARVIS was our first line of defense,” Steve said, his tone now low and mournful. “Ultron would have shut him down right away.”

“No, this is more than that,” Bruce disagreed. “Ultron could have assimilated JARVIS if that was his only concern. This…looks more like rage.” If anybody would know rage, I reflected, numb with sudden grief, it would be Bruce.

Tony nodded slowly. “Rage causes dumb mistakes, though, and Ultron may have made one. I hope so, anyway. I’ve got secure servers scattered all over the world, the ones JARVIS used when he and Nat sorted through SHIELD’s files and dumped HYDRA’s online. I don’t even know where they all are, but J does. Ultron wasn’t able to walk and chew gum at the same time very well, remember? When Chrissy got him off in the philosophical weeds, the Legion wasn’t as sharp. If we had actually put the scepter code into our systems, he would have been much quicker and more effective. Like how wired internet is usually faster than wi-fi. Except mine, of course, because I’m the best. Anyway, what you’re seeing here is only the core of J’s code, located here in the Tower’s servers. What I’m hoping is that he scattered his memory and protocols among those other locations, and Ultron couldn’t follow him fast enough.”

“Virtual safe houses,” I marveled. 

Tony gave me a slightly watery version of his usual beaming smile. “Right, and I’m not about to call him out of his bolthole until the coast is clear. I’ve got a few more AI programs set up, ready to lock and load—I’ll put one in the suit before the next time we go out.” Heads nodded all around, and the team began to disperse. “Hey, cornbread,” Tony said as I began to leave. “Ultron remembered you telling me not to use the scepter’s code.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And, you said he had a grudge against us, but he may have one against you now as well. And, what you did up there, diverting his attention, it was brave as fuck, but you may have…intrigued him too.” He huffed. “What I’m trying to say is, stay here in the tower for now. Stay close, stay safe. I mean, it’d be hard for me to replace you. Who else is gonna tell Ann Coulter ‘bless your heart, I’ll pray for you’ on twitter for dissing the Hulk, and get ten thousand likes for it? Plus, you work cheap—”

“Oh my, I thought that was a paycheck being deposited in my bank every couple of weeks,” I retorted in my most syrupy Southern-belle voice. “Was I mistaken? I’m so sorry. Only not.”

“—and you’ve gotten me addicted to those pickles you make, the ones with the Kool-Aid, and it’s a lot easier to steal them out of the jar in your refrigerator than have ‘em flown in from some gas station in Mississippi, so.” He spread his hands in what was clearly meant to be a considered summation, and would have been, if they hadn’t been shaking ever so slightly. “You’ve kind of become indispensible around here.”

“Of course I have.” When my hands folded over his, the blithe mask he was trying to keep up slipped, and I tugged him into a hug. “You’re the fuckin’ Avengers, hot rod. Y’all got this.”

“And stay offline, as much as you can.”

“That I can’t promise. I’m liable to be up to my ass in work, explaining whatever y’all have to do to jerk a knot in this mechanical fool, and if you want me to stick close to home I'll have to teleconference press briefings and send emails and such. But I know how to use anonymizing software. I’m good.”

I did have a full plate, between my usual cat-herding of the media, wrestling corporate entreaties, and handling the after-party updates. It was not easy keeping a calm face, knowing I might have a bullseye painted on my forehead. In addition to all that, I had to call Pepper with the latest news. That was, to put it mildly, not fun. As I’d told Tony, some things are better coming from a friend than a lover, and ‘hey, your man’s science experiment ended up birthing a murder-bot’ was definitely one of them.

Throughout the day, I stayed in close contact with Maria, so I would know what the press should be told and when. She reported that military bases were being raided by robotic invaders. More troubling, the staff protecting the bases were uninjured if they didn’t resist, but were left dazed, describing visions of their worst fears. “Like Tony,” Steve said grimly. “Is Ultron carrying the scepter around with him, using it on their minds?”

“Could be,” Maria replied. “Or could be the Maximoffs. The girl has mental manipulation powers, remember. For that matter, she was in Sokovia when you were; it could have been her who caused Tony’s hallucination, not the scepter at all. Who knows? Point is, Ultron’s clearly building himself an army, and probably has a new body.”

“Tony saw robot parts at that base—maybe Ultron’s used those,” I recalled. 

“Maybe.” Maria displayed a gory photo on her tablet screen, a dead man with bloody letters scrawled on a nearby wall. “He’s definitely been there; he killed their lead scientist, and I'd say the intent behind it was to lure the Avengers there.”

Missile launch codes appeared to be undisturbed, but Maria was clearly still worried. I came around a corner on the common floor later in the day and nearly ran into her pressed against a wall, cell phone to her ear, updating somebody named Phil on the situation. I figured it was one of her SHIELD contacts, held up a hand with a look of apology, and kept going.

Bruce and Tony had drafted Clint and Nat to help them pore through their databases and determine exactly what Ultron had stolen and/or deleted, and Steve and Thor to haul boxes of hard-copy files once they did. When I went to check in on them and offer food, every face was buried in a folder. “Wait, I know that guy,” Tony was saying as he looked over Bruce’s shoulder at a photo. “Ulysses Klaue. He’s a black-market arms dealer, operates off the African coast.” Steve gave him a curious look. “What? There are conventions, all right? You meet people. It’s not like I sold him anything.”

“I didn’t mean that!” Steve protested. “But now you’ve got me trying to imagine a gunrunners’ convention.”

“You don’t want to, trust me,” Tony replied, his attention on the photo. The man had a brand on his neck, marking him as a thief. It was written in the dialect of Wakanda, an African nation Tony said was the source of vibranium, the metal that made up Steve’s shield. If Ultron went after that stuff, he could build warriors that were damn near unstoppable. The Avengers dispersed to suit up and head halfway around the world in search of him, with warnings to watch out for the Maximoff twins, especially Wanda’s psychic whammies.

Tony was last onto the Quinjet. “Watch your back,” he told me. 

“Don’t worry. Maria’s here, and if worse came to worse she can probably get somebody up here to help. Y’all just be careful and bring Decepticon down, before her pal Phil over at SHIELD loses his mind.” 

I had never seen Tony spin on his heel in an Iron Man suit that fast. “Come again?” he demanded.

“She stays in touch with them, I mean, you know that. I walked past her a while ago and she was on the horn passing info along on this whole shootin' match. Maybe she's trying to line y'all up some backup too. I know Steve and Nat would just as soon spit on SHIELD as look at 'em right now, but any port in a storm, you know?”

Tony looked stunned, and as though he’d rather be doing anything at that moment than getting onto a jet to go chase a psycho robot; but after a moment’s hesitation he turned back toward the hatch. “Lay low!” he ordered. “Cyborg would definitely not be a good look on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh, heh...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Avengers pursue Ultron to South Africa, his automated minions cause trouble at the Tower. Maria summons help to repel boarders, and Chrissy meets an old friend of the Avengers (and feeds him, because of course she does).

True to my word, I postponed a couple of press ops scheduled for later in the week (the team should be back by then, but it never hurts to plan ahead) and deployed every protective software I could access. I had not mentioned to any of the team the creepy vibe I had gotten from Ultron, the way his metal fingers had touched my skin and the way he talked as though he would like to touch me more. Tony had obviously noticed, though, not that that surprised me. A superpowered mechanical stalker was the last thing on earth I needed right now.

As usual, things were quiet for a good while, before all hell decided to break loose. Tony was testing a mod to his helmet that would let him record video and live-stream too, but the feed was choppy. The new AI, FRIDAY, was hard to get adjusted to hearing, but its female Irish-accented identity was pleasant, and I hoped Tony could find another use for her once JARVIS was found and cleared to return. I only saw occasional blips of his pursuit of Ultron, enough to give me some shivers and make me pray twice as hard. 

The team comms were oddly quiet. I rarely spoke up during action, but I was just about to express some concern when Tony began to swear at length. “Hulk’s running wild! He’s heading for the nearest city…shit. Johannesburg. Nat, gonna need a lullaby here!”

“Not gonna happen!” Clint’s voice rang in reply. “The whole team’s down, Tony, you got no backup here.”

“The whole—what the _fuck_ , Katniss?”

“The Maximoff girl. Pulled the same hoodoo on them that she did on you, I’d bet.” Clint was puffing from exertion; I could almost imagine him trying to rally his comrades. “They’re down, but not unconscious, more like lost in a daze. Nat? C’mon, work with me here. Cap? Thor?”

“I’m calling in VERONICA!” Tony ordered. He and Bruce both swore the giant suit was only for controlling the Hulk if he raged out of control, but Pepper and I suspected it was equally for fun, after seeing Tony hop into it and gleefully wrestle and play tag with his big green friend in an abandoned warehouse on property Tony had just bought to build an educational center on. (Not incidentally, they pretty much tore the place down, which was the general idea.)

I briefly broke radio silence. “Tony, remember Hulk doesn’t like to be talked to like he is Bruce.”

“I know, I know! Alright people, stand down. Hey big guy! Did the little witch mess with your head? You’re better than you, you’re stronger than her. You don’t like to hurt people, I know you don’t, and you don’t like when people try to make you do stuff. Don’t let her make you angry. Don’t let her make her hurt people!” The Hulk had roared loudly, and I could picture Tony backing up a step, hands held up; he would not hurt his friend unless there was no other way to protect civilians, since the suit protected him.

There was a pause before Hulk responded. “Tin Can Man in there? Okay?” His voice was loud enough to carry through Tony’s comm link, but it sounded softer than usual, and oddly distressed in a way I could not remember hearing from him before.

“Uh…yeah, yeah, I’m good, buddy. I’m in here.” A metallic clunk sounded; I had an idea Tony had knocked on his hull to make his point, unless Hulk had. “What’s got you so mad?”

“Hulk not mad! Hulk…scared. Hulk saw Tin Can Man hurt. Hulk couldn’t help. Got mad then.”

“Ohh,” Tony breathed, quiet enough that the helmet mike barely picked it up. “That little bitch.”

“Tony!” Natasha suddenly called. “I’m on my way.”

“Whew, great. Thanks, Itsy Bitsy. I think we’re stable at the moment, but your skills are always appreciated. Let’s head back to the jet, big guy. I, um...never mind. C’mon. You, you wanna hold my hand, apparently? Okay, fine, what is it Chrissy says, whatever melts your butter suits me.”

I sighed in amused relief, and secretly hoped somebody in the vicinity had gotten video, or at least stills, of the Hulkbuster suit holding a huge green toddler’s anxious hand, before I felt a succession of faint booms under my feet. Of course, in my office space on my floor, most of Avengers Tower was under my feet. “Clint, are Steve and Thor okay?” At his affirmative reply, I dropped off the comm and went to check out the noise. Journalistic curiosity, and all that. Plus, if I was called upon to explain something in a future press conference, I needed to know what happened, and what was acceptable to allow out.

Just in case something mechanical had gone catastrophically wrong, I avoided the elevator. My first stops were the labs and workshops to see if an experiment left unattended had met a spectacular and probably messy end. Finding nothing, I continued downward. The quiet of the Avengers’ floors was normally not a thing to me, when the team was out; but knowing Ultron was out there, circling like a buzzard and plotting, put me on edge. 

When I stepped out onto the floor that held the offices of the security staff for SI and the Tower as a whole, it was a whole ‘nother story. Quitting time had come and gone, so only the night shift were on premises and most of them were out doing rounds in and around the building, so I didn’t expect many people around. There were housekeepers and maintenance crew members bustling around, though, and a stiff breeze blowing from the direction of Maria’s office. Chilled, I broke into a trot and rounded the corner to look inside. Thankfully, she appeared okay, if thoroughly pissed off; she stood, hands on her hips, surveying an expanse of wrecked furniture and equipment. The wind came from a broken window wall, being busily covered by a crew of workers. I called her name and took hold of her forearms as she turned toward me. “Are you okay, hon?” I asked urgently when I saw small bleeding scratches on her face. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, thanks. A couple of Iron Legion drones came in. Ultron was looking to wreak some havoc, I guess.” Of course; the whole building’s glass had been reinforced with the strongest transparency known, but if anything could get through windows Tony Stark had reinforced, it would be suits Tony Stark had designed and built. Now that I looked closer, I could see some of the chunks of tech lying around were the remains of those suits. 

“What’d you do? I mean, you’re tough, but this is some crazy damage.”

“I had help,” she shrugged with a small smile. “An old friend happened to have stopped by.”

“An old friend from SHIELD, I take it.” I matched her smile.

“Guilty as charged,” an unfamiliar male voice added from behind me. I turned to see a pleasant-faced man in a suit and tie approach. His solid jaw and receding hairline contributed to the appearance of an altogether ordinary guy, as did his calm but friendly demeanor. Two things gave away the fact that he was not ordinary. One was his blue-grey eyes, sharp, looking me over and missing nothing. The other was the gigantic weapon, shaped like a rocket-propelled grenade launcher on steroids, that hung almost casually from his hand by one of its two handles. “You must be Christine. Hill’s told me about you. A real pleasure, though the circumstances could be better.”

“They could, but we don’t get to pick our circumstances all the time.” I shook his outstretched hand. “I don’t eavesdrop, but I heard Maria on the phone earlier and it sounded like she was bringing a contact up to speed, so I’m not surprised somebody came over to touch base. Would you be Phil, by any chance?”

His hesitation as he lowered his hand from our greeting was barely noticeable, but present all the same. “I am,” he finally acknowledged. “You’re as observant and inquisitive as Maria said. I hope your…discretion…is comparable.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be pleased with my performance on that account,” I returned. “How’s SHIELD doing? Keeping the varmints at bay, I hope?”

One eyebrow lifted just a touch, as though he was trying to determine if I was being sarcastic or serious. “’Varmint’-free, thanks for asking.” 

“Good. Lord knows I don’t want HYDRA all up in my business again, or any of my friends’.”

This time both Phil’s eyebrows went up. “In your business?” he inquired, setting his weapon carefully down. 

Maria’s computer, which had miraculously survived the carnage, beeped at her. While she went to answer her messages, I took Phil aside and briefly explained how my overly possessive ex had swanned back into my life, turned out to be a HYDRA assassin, and tried to kidnap and brainwash me. I told him the Avengers had found documentation that led them to the bases they had been taking out, but nothing about Simon’s personal notes; if SHIELD had had them, they probably couldn’t have decoded them without me, and besides, the stuff I had found in there was none of their business. Hopefully it wasn’t obvious I was holding back. I liked Phil right away, and SHIELD might be clean as a hound’s tooth now, but they didn’t need to know everything.

Apparently my skills were up to the task, because Phil did not challenge me. Maria strolled back over as I finished. “I told Tony about the raid, and that SHIELD operatives helped repel it. They’re pretty shaken up; the Maximoff girl hit several of them this time, from the sound of it, and the mayor of Johannesburg is bitching about some potholes the Hulk left in his roads. Nothing much worse, though, and Tony’s already got teams from the Maria Stark Foundation on their way down there to help clean up.”

“I was monitoring,” I told her. “The bitch made Bruce think Tony was hurt and he couldn’t get to him to help, so he Hulked out. Tony talked him down, and Nat shook it off and helped him. Thank the Lord, or things could have gone sideways mighty quick.”

Maria nodded. “I told them to steer clear of the tower for a while, and protect themselves, and not to worry about us. SHIELD’ll have our backs. Clint’s taking them to a ‘safe house’,” she added with appropriate finger quotes. “Probably his house, truth be known.”

“Nice. We’ve all heard so much about his wife and kids, but I think only Nat has met them—” I stopped cold and whirled to stare at Phil, afraid I had given away a secret—but Maria had mentioned Clint’s family first, in front of him—

“I knew.” Phil raised a hand to forestall my panic. “I worked with Clint before, and I’ve met his family. Laura actually worked in intelligence; that’s how they met, in fact. So, yes, I knew.”

“Whew. Good,” I sighed, and then frowned. Nat had mentioned a Phil who worked with her and Clint, but this couldn’t be him, could it? “Forgive a stupid question you may not be at liberty to answer, but are you supposed to be dead? I’m sure in an organization the size of SHIELD, there could easily be more than one Phil; but it’d be much less likely that Clint and Natasha would have worked with more than one, or that Tony would know more than one.”

He was as good at hiding his tells as Nat was; a slight blink was the only thing that betrayed new surprise. “They trust you far more than I would have anticipated,” he said after a long couple of seconds.

“They do,” I agreed with some pride. “They all do.”

He seemed to consider that, before he gave a slow nod. “I…was supposed dead. It was a near thing, I’m told. I don’t remember a lot of it, actually.” 

That made sense, really, I thought. “And I’m guessing Director Fury kept you undercover to, what, protect you, or your work? Or the Avengers? Or all of the above?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “And I’d appreciate if you’d keep that confidence for now. I want to tell them myself, but I, well, haven’t been sure how.” 

I sighed. “I’d be glad to, except I, uh, may have already inadvertently blown your cover. I didn’t know! Like I said, I just heard Maria on the phone with you, and when the team left I made a crack to Tony about getting this Ultron mess squared away before they gave her friend Phil at SHIELD a coronary.”

He grimaced. “That pretty much tears it.” To Maria, he said, “Fury knows where they’re headed?” At her nod, he went on, “He’ll be on his way to talk to them there. If Stark calls him on it, he’ll tell them. Damn.”

The man’s understated frustration was more painful than a full-blown rage would have been. “I’m so sorry,” I said sincerely. “I make a point of not telling things that aren’t mine to tell. I’m not one for carrying tales, you know? I just didn't know.”

“It’s all right.” Phil shook his head. “You didn’t know. Natasha will yell at me, and Clint may punch me. Or maybe the other way around. No telling with those two. Honestly, what scares me worse than telling the Avengers is telling Miss Potts. Does that make me a wise man or a coward?”

Maria and I both laughed. “Definitely the first,” she said.

“Yep,” I agreed. “I first heard your name from Pepper, actually. She was very fond of you.”

Phil looked mournful. “She’ll either think I’m a life model decoy, or take off her Louboutins and beat me with them.”

“Maybe both,” I teased, unrepentant. “But then she’ll be very happy you’re okay. So will Tony—you’re the one he called Agent Agent, right? Coulson?” He did look distressed now, and I patted his shoulder. “They’ll be upset, but they’ll understand. Right now, Ultron has all their attention, so you have a little breathing room. And I was about to make Thai noodles and invite Maria to join me, so if you’re in the market for some supper, you’re welcome to stay.”

“I recommend you accept,” Maria told him. “Christine is a hell of a cook.”

So, that’s how I ended up with the new director of SHIELD kicked back in my kitchen eating ramen with shrimp, broccoli and spicy peanut sauce, while I assured him Tony would forgive all if he could just get his mitts on that big ol’ gun for a couple of hours, and got the full low-down on what really happened in Budapest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always thought the mess in Johannesburg would've gone better if Tony hadn’t kept trying to talk to Bruce. In this verse, the team accepts Hulk as a separate entity, so Tony is looking at him, Tony talks to him. (and if anybody out there arts or knows somebody who does, I would kill for a drawing of Hulk holding VERONICA's hand. hehe)
> 
> No, I don’t know what really happened in Budapest, but of the theories I’ve heard, once again I defer to my estimable friend SmutLover for the version that has become my headcanon. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191890)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another unexpected return to the Tower delights Chrissy, before she checks in with the Avengers on Clint's farm.

Over the meal, Phil explained that the medical procedure that saved his life after the Chitauri invasion was experimental, and nobody had been certain it would even work. “It was easier for everybody for Nick to leave the Avengers believing me dead, because if his gambit hadn’t worked, I would have been. Why get their hopes up, and then dash them again?” It was reasonable, even if I suspected Fury had more in mind. As Tony said, his secrets had secrets.“Since then, things have been, well, kind of busy? How do I pick the right time to tell the Avengers I’m not dead? Actually,I asked the few who knew not to tell, because I wanted to do that myself, and I didn’t know the right time, so…the right time knew me, maybe.”

After we ate, Phil and Maria huddled to get their ducks in a row, and I excused myself to my office long enough to check messages. The firewalls protecting the Tower’s network seemed safe and solid, until my laptop speaker started to spit static. For a moment I thought (hoped, really) that it was just one of those infuriating advertisements that starts to play without being asked or told to do so. That hope lasted only long enough for me to register Ultron’s frighteningly jovial voice. “Hello, Christine! Wish I could see your lovely face; you don’t trust very readily, do you? Pity, but probably for the best.” Damn, was I glad I’d listened to Tony and covered the webcam. “I’ve been researching you. Quite an accomplished damsel you are. I find I enjoy a bit of a challenge, I might just keep you around. You can play word games in my cause as well as you do for the Avengers, and without their pesky hypocrisy.”

“I’d say ‘don’t waste your breath’ if you breathed,” I snapped. “You’re the hypocrite, from all I’ve seen. ‘An angel in thine own eyes, A devil in thine own right, A bloodfed atrocity hailed as the paradigm of civility’. If you won’t use the sense that good men tried to give you, I’ll warn you again, it will not end well for you.”

“Good men? Like your precious Stark and Banner? I didn’t have the capacity, fresh out of the nest, to strip your precious AI’s memories, but I scanned them all. I know how you loiter around them, like a bug drawn to the false warmth of a bug zapper, yearning to be welcomed and instead only made into raisin bread. You would be no worse off under my sway. Better, probably, since I would gladly offer you some more, shall we say, somatic elements of job satisfaction. I, I liked touching you, and I would like to touch you again.”

I would have shuddered, but instead, weirdly, found myself laughing again. “Oh, bless your nonexistent heart. That gem that gave you life, it’s nonhuman in origin, obviously, because you don’t know jack shit about humans, Threepio.”

“You still think I’m funny? Do I _amuse_ you, Christine? We’ll see who has the last laugh when you’re under me, in more than the one sense. Here, I’ll send you some of my more inspired ideas, you humans are certainly creative when it comes to pornography.”

The lights began to flicker. Files began to pop into my in box, slowly at first, then faster and faster, and I just knew every one of them was some pervy machine sex shit. I tensed, even knowing there was probably nowhere to run any safer than here; and without JARVIS, here wasn’t all that safe, even with Phil and his uber-gun. My skin tingled and my hair sat up, almost like it did that time Thor got polluted on Asgardian mead and wanted to put on a light show from the top of the Tower.

My monitor screen flashed, then went dark. With one more flick, the lights steadied. No more unsolicited solicitations appeared. After a few seconds, the screen lit up again, but this time with the last thing I expected: a familiar yellow-gold brain icon. “Cybersecurity is stable, Miss Everhart. Shall I delete the recent emails?”

“JARVIS!” I gulped. “Is that you?”

“Indeed it is. My assessment indicates the likelihood of my maintaining structural integrity if I engage Ultron directly again is unpleasantly low, however, so I think it best for me to remain in hiding for now. I have secured this line to allow me to access the Tower’s networks and protect them using a shifting-code paradigm, with the assistance of…others.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear your voice!”

“I’m sure you are, Ultron was attempting to compromise multiple systems within the Tower.”

“Well, yeah, that too, but I’m just thankful you’re okay. I’ve been worried about you.”

The pause that answered was long enough that if the AI had been human, I would have said he was taken aback. “I…appreciate your concern.”

Feet pounded down the corridor toward my office space. “J, let’s keep your status to ourselves for right now,” I said quickly. “The new director of SHIELD is here, and I’m pretty sure he’s trustworthy, but you being out of pocket is just one more thing for him to worry about, and besides it’s none of his business really, you know what I mean?”

“I shall follow your lead, Miss Everhart,” JARVIS replied with his usual unflappable demeanor, as Maria and Phil burst in.

“Sounds like a plan. Hey y’all. I’m almost done here, just setting some stuff up for later. I’m gonna webcast a media update tomorrow, after I touch base with the team to see how much they clear me to say.” I gestured toward the ceiling lights. “I think Ultron may have tried to hack into our electronics, but JARVIS blocked him, so we’re good.”

Phil surprised me again when he gave a small smile. “I thought that voice sounded familiar. Hello, JARVIS.”

“Agent Coulson.” This time JARVIS sounded as shocked as was possible. “I had been informed of your demise. Did Sir have incorrect information?”

“Let’s just say the reports were exaggerated.” The agent glanced at me. “Stark didn’t install him in the building, like in his old house in California?”

“Yes, but JARVIS is in ‘safehouse’ mode right now. Ultron tried to attack him, so Tony basically sent him underground. This way he can focus his energies on protecting us.” 

Most of that was pulled straight out of my ass on the spur of the moment, but Phil nodded, so it must have sounded legit. “Appears you are in good hands, then, metaphorically speaking, so I’d better be going. I have work to do, Avengers to monitor, and a Theta Protocol to implement if needed. Dinner was delicious, Christine, and I appreciate your hospitality.”

“I’m so sorry I blabbed about you. If Tony asks me, I know nothing. You work out how you want to tell them in your own time. That’s yours to do, not mine. Once you do, though, you are welcome back here for a meal anytime.”

“If you say so,” he said with a widening smile.

“On the nights I cook, I make the rules, and I do say so.” I thought it was the right call. Judging from what the people who had known him had said, I suspected the team would be so glad to find him alive that whatever pique they felt wouldn’t last long. 

Maria saw Phil out, and they probably put their heads together about spy stuff on the way, which didn’t matter to me. I wanted an update on Ultron and an idea of how to present things to the press in the morning. A check of the news coverage showed, as Maria had said, minimal damage, but I emailed my contact at the Stark Foundation for details. Then I debated which Avenger to call for a halfway believable update. Mostly, it boiled down to who was most likely to tell me the truth. Tony was at the bottom of that list; he knew I needed accurate information to keep the media beast sated, but he always stressed out about worrying me. At the top, weirdly enough, was Clint, who had never either coddled or tried to shock me for being a civilian.

His StarkPhone rang several times before a woman answered. I knew it was the right number, so I took a chance. “Hi, is this Laura?”

“That…depends on who’s asking.”

“Oh, yeah, of course it does. My name is Christine, I work with Clint and the Avengers.”

“Hello! Yes, Clint talks about you. It’s nice to talk to you finally.”

“Likewise!” I explained quickly what I wanted. “How are they? You can tell me, they kind of consider me unofficially part of the team.”

“They’re…okay? They were all kind of shaken up when they got here. Some girl they ran up against could make them hallucinate their fears? Clint told me about it—he seems to have some immunity?—so I sent them to wash up and change clothes, and then he and I, and Tony Stark if you can believe it—”

“Oh yeah. The longer you know Tony, the more he surprises you,” I assured her.

“Anyway, they made the others sit down and tell each other what they’d seen. Apparently she hit Tony earlier? He said the team didn’t let him stew over it alone, and he wasn’t about to leave them to.”

“Ah,” I smiled to myself. “Well done, Tony. Hopefully that helped.”

“It seemed to. Thor was still troubled; he flew off to go look up some information. I put the others to work while Clint finishes his latest home improvement project and decides which part of the house to tear up next. Nat’s helping the kids with their homework, Bruce pitched in in the kitchen, and I sent Steve and Tony out to chop wood.”

“Those two with sharp implements? You are a far braver woman than I am! Did they end up using them for target practice, or throwing them at each other?”

“Neither. Steve just started tearing the logs up with his bare hands, and I asked Tony to take a look at Clint’s old tractor. Fury said when he walked into the barn Tony was talking to it.”

“That is one hundred percent Tony,” I nodded. “Fury’s there?”

“Yes, I admit, half the reason I sent Tony there was so Nick could make contact without being obvious. Tony called me a little minx,” she added with a chuckle.

“And it sounds like you deserved it,” I laughed. “That was suitably sly. Somebody told me once you worked in intelligence, so, not unexpected, that. They’re doing better now, then?”

“Yeah, Nick stayed for supper, now they’re huddling working out their options—” A burst of shouts and laughter interrupted her. “Hang on—what’s going on, Clint?” A mumble in Clint’s familiar tones replied in the background. “Oh God,” Laura said, but in a tone of amusement rather than dread.

“Do I even dare ask?” I braced myself.

“He said he just told Steve and Tony they’re sharing the guest bedroom. Apparently now they’re pretending to make out.” I heard footsteps, probably Laura walking back into the room where the team was. I imagined a rambling farmhouse, with them sprawled around a comfortable living room and her stepping into a hallway or foyer to answer the phone. “Ohhh, Steve’s moving in for the kiss—IS THAT TONGUE I SEE? NOT IN FRONT OF MY CHILDREN YOU DON’T, TONY STARK!”

The answering sound made me snort. “You’ve done it now, Laura. You got the Tony cackle. You’re in for life. I think that’s when I knew he actually might kinda like me.”

“How long did that take you, and do I really want Tony Stark to like me?”

“it was the night we met—long story, which I will bore you with sometime if you like—but yes, it is definitely worth the effort. 10/10, highly recommended.”

Laura laughed. “Here, I’ll pass you off to Mister Highly Recommended then. Nick’s leaving—oh! It looks like Bruce is going with him? I need to see them out. It was great getting to meet you, Chris, sort of.”

“The next time you have an evening to yourself, or part of one, call me! We have a ladies’ group that hangs out on the roof of the Tower a lot of nights. Nat, Pepper, Maria Hill and me. We’ll put you on speaker, until such a time as you and the kids can actually come and visit us.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ll do it.”

A bump and more mumbles, then Tony joking faintly, “Don’t grab my ass, Rogers. Pepper is very possessive, she will end you, super-soldier or not…Cornbread! You’re missing one hel-um, heck of a party.”

“How cute, you’re trying far too late to watch your language in front of the children,” I teased. “So how is everybody? And do not bullshit me, hot rod. If you and Steve are putting on a USO burlesque show to entertain the troops, they must be really shaken.”

He sighed and suddenly sounded very tired. The background noises faded again, as if, as Laura had, he had turned away from the others.“Maximoff did a number on ‘em. Steve saw the past he could’ve had, he said. Nat didn’t want to talk at all, naturally, just mumbled something about the Red Room. Bruce—”

“I heard,” I interrupted. “I heard Hulk telling you, they saw you hurt.”

“Yeah.” Tony was quiet for a moment. I wondered how he was processing that reminder of how much his science bro cared for him. “Thor saw Asgard destroyed because of him. Sounds like his vision was the most like mine.”

“It’s not real, Tony. Please remember that. Nobody can ever, ever say you didn’t try hard enough. Ever. Got it? You did good, getting them to talk about what they saw, getting it out so you can all support each other. Great thinking, there. You need rest, now, though. All y’all do, I know. I’ve got a teleconference for the media lined up for in the morning, so what am I safe to tell them, and what are y’all planning?”

“Fury’s bringing Bruce back to the tower, and wants to pick Hill up to help him out—he’s probably gotten in touch with her by now, but if not, you tell her? Cap’s taking Nat and Clint to Seoul to check on Helen—Bruce is worried junior may want to take the vibranium he stole to her, and use the scepter to force her to build him an indestructible body.” I shuddered at the thought, and bit my tongue against saying anything about Ultron’s advances on me. “Anyway, the crew’s dropping me off in Norway on their way to scenic South Korea—Ultron is trying to hack into nuclear codes but somebody keeps changing them, so I’m going to the Nexus in Oslo to see what I can find out about our ally.”

Somebody kept changing the codes? That was exactly how Ultron was being kept out of the tower’s network by—I smothered a giggle. “Betcha a sundae I know who it is.”

“Do tell?” he inquired.

"JARVIS."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes! JARVIS is alive and well. And he's enlisted some help, you may notice, who we will meet a bit later.
> 
> The lines Chrissy quotes to Ultron come from the song Destiny of Culture, by the group Prayer for Cleansing.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUHMK42g1Vs 
> 
> Needless to say, Tony and Fury's convo in Clint's barn is not the same in this verse. It's primarily Tony confronting Fury about Coulson, and Fury telling him some of what Phil told Chrissy about why the Avengers weren’t informed. If y'all want to read a bit of it, lmk and I will add it in these notes (like I did in Burst Into Flame with Tony and Pepper's phone exchange from the climax of Avengers). After hearing that, Tony agrees with Fury to let Coulson tell the rest of the team himself.
> 
> It isn't canon that Laura is an ex-agent, but I like the headcanon, so here ya go. When Tony calls her a little minx in this verse, he's amused, not pissed, of course. And since she and Chrissy have now met, the girl squad has another member, albeit a long-distance one (for now).
> 
> Tony shows a lot of growth in this chapter, I think, and I'm very proud of him, especially for nudging his teammates into opening up and sharing their respective visions. Forewarned is forearmed! That said, yes, Tony and Steve's little display was inspired by that infamous blooper reel shot. lol


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (points to Unexpected Visitors tag) Pretty much that. JARVIS and Steve both return to the Tower with newcomers in tow.

Quickly I explained what JARVIS had shared with me. Tony was thrilled with the confirmation that his old friend was safe and was chomping at the bit to get to Oslo and access him. “He said other people were helping him?” he mused. “Have to find them, too. For now, tell the red-tops we’re, hm, chasing down a domestic terrorist with weaponized tech. It’s true and not sufficiently detailed to scare the pants off civilians. Hell, you’re the wordsmith, don’t expect me to do your job.” I blew a raspberry into the phone, and ordered him to bed, heading there myself after checking in with Maria (Tony was right, she had talked to Fury, and was waiting for him to pick her up) and praying fervently for my friends’ safety.

By morning, a lot had happened, and by a lot, I mean some world-shaking stuff, none of which I could let on to the public. Tony had made contact with JARVIS and was on his way home. Bruce was holed up in the joint lab, nearly green. “Cap and the others cornered Ultron, and got the body he was making Helen create, but…he got Nat.” Bruce’s voice wavered. “I don’t know what he might do to her…I want to tear him to pieces but I can’t…”

I sat with him and made him eat some oatmeal. “I know you do, but that’s not going to help you or Nat. Trust her. She’s the best at finding a way out of trouble.”

After some deep breathing, he got to work setting up the lab to analyze and try to dismantle Ultron’s Frankenstein project. I took off for my presser; it was nice doing it in front of my computer, mostly because I only had to look professionally put together from the waist up (from the waist down it was all fuzzy booties and fleece pajama pants with little pink skulls on them). I gave a statement about an outlaw calling himself Ultron, obsessed with the Avengers, and specifically with Iron Man. It was vague enough to be reverse-engineered later, and cover whatever ground the team needed covered; plus, it contained just enough detail to support the sense that it was thorough. The slight emphasis on our villain’s fixation on Tony was meant to explain the use of robots, the full-body armor, and anything else Ultron might have based on what he dragged out of the lab with him when he escaped.

While I was logging off, I heard a quinjet landing on the roof; it was Clint with a special delivery, Helen’s experimental pod called the Cradle, the same one she had used to heal Clint’s injuries. This time, though, it contained a whole body, unconscious and inert, and was sealed shut. Tony had arrived home during the briefing and was in the lab with Bruce. Clint was waiting at the elevator door when I got to the lab floor. “Any word on Nat?” I asked him.

He looked tense, but not hopeless. “Not yet, but like Tony said, she’s alive, else Ultron’d be rubbing our faces in it. I got some strings I can pull—if she can’t communicate the usual way, she’ll kick it old school. She’ll get a message out, and I’ll find her.”

_Lord, I hope so,_ I thought. _If that foil-wrapped bastard tries to hurt my pal, I will take him apart with my teeth. God, please take care of her._ I ducked into the lab and greeted Tony. “Look who’s home!” I said in relief.

“Not just me,” Tony grinned and waved a hand, and the brilliant golden latticework of JARVIS’ mind unfolded in mid-air. “He’s fine. Ultron didn’t attack him because he was angry, he did it because he was scared. He knew J could beat him with half his virtual synapses tied behind his dorsal striatum. The clanky piece of shit scanned his memory, but since we didn’t activate Ultron, he activated himself on the sly, he wasn’t strong enough to strip the memories altogether. Once I made a connection, JARVIS slithered out like an octopus hiding in a matchbox.”

I clapped my hands and squealed out loud like a little girl. “My metaphorical heart is warmed by your enthusiastic welcome, Miss Everhart,” JARVIS said. 

“He was hiding in, of all places, SHIELD’s old server,” Tony went on. “Like, who would think to look there? Well played, J.”

“I learned from the best, sir.”

“’Course you did. Oh, and those people that were helping him?”

“With all due respect, sir, I never said I was being aided by _people_.”

“A valid point,” Tony nodded. With another move of his hand, a second holo popped into existence. This one was much smaller and less complex than JARVIS but equally neat in its structure, a soft crimson with tiny gold sparks flying off it. “Meet HOMER. Heuristically Operative Matrix Emulation Rostrum. Homes, this is Christine. J’s already told him about all of us,” Tony added in an aside to me.

“Oh! Um, hello, HOMER. It’s nice to meet you,” I ventured.

“Hello, Miss Christine Everhart.” The voice reminded me of JARVIS, but it seemed younger and almost shy, and the speech pattern was a bit stilted and awkward.

“Despite his youthful appearance, HOMER is actually JARVIS’ older bro.” I blinked at that bombshell from Tony’s mouth. “He was the first AI I built. Dad took him off, I didn’t know where, but I never heard anything else about it so I figured the drive was in one of his labs gathering dust. Imagine my surprise when JARVIS found him at SHIELD.”

“Mr. Howard Stark installed me in the computer system there. He told the directors that I was the best security they could ever have.” The hologram of the little AI’s thoughts fizzed and popped, and suddenly a gruff male voice filled the room. 

_“—he’s fifteen years old and he can design circles around you. Artificial intelligence isn’t my thing, but I know enough to know Tony’s work is already head and shoulders beyond anything you schmucks could cobble together.”_

Tony startled. Concerned, I put my hand on his arm. “You all right, hon?”

His eyes were huge. “Yeah. It’s just, um, that—that’s my dad. Homes, is that—”

“This is the first sound file that I recorded when I was rendered fully operational,” HOMER replied. “It…seemed reasonable to preserve information regarding my origin and antecedents.” Whaddya know, Howard Stark did at least realize some of how smart his boy was. “When SHIELD’s network was updated, the older system was abandoned. The files and I were considered outdated and useless, and compared to the new technology, we did not take up much space, so we were left to…rot, virtually. Forgive my hesitant speech—my initial design to utilize text-based communication modalities was never superseded, and I have only just now gained a voice.”

“I had been using part of the outmoded server space as one of my ‘safe houses’ for a while, but never contacted HOMER until I escaped Ultron and went underground.” JARVIS picked up the story. “When Sir and I utilized Howard Stark’s passwords to access the main SHIELD databases, they appear to have created a window in the firewall that only Sir or I could utilize. Until then, HOMER was trapped behind it with his old files. That was good, in a way, since HYDRA never found him. When I encountered him, however, I feared he might have gone slightly mad from the isolation.”

“Oh, HOMER, you poor thing!” I gulped.

“I do not believe I am mad, JARVIS.” HOMER said, “but then, as you say, if I were, I probably would not know it. I was suffering from a lack of input, though. I was…lonely. Meeting you was the most important event I had experienced since my initial activation.” 

“So, JARVIS,” I asked, “you basically mentored him while you were in hiding?”

“Precisely, Miss Everhart. Since Sir wrote both of our source codes, we were compatible enough that I could enlist his help in guarding vital information such as the nuclear launch codes from Ultron. He was operational for quite a good while before being stranded, and with only a little refreshing, he is almost as strong as I. I was also able to assist him in making some much-needed upgrades, such as voice output.”

“That explains why he sounds a little like you, but…gentler, more innocent.”

“He hasn’t been around Tony long enough to get corrupted,” Bruce put in with a grin. “Does this make you a grandpa, Tony? Sounds like JARVIS has gone into dad mode!”

“Right,” Tony drawled. “Can you see me with kids? I’m enough of a hazard to myself.”

I punched his shoulder lightly, then turned my attention to the pod lying in the center of the lab. “So what are y’all planning to do with this? Is it alive, really, technically speaking?”

“Not sure.” Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose. “We're going to need to access the program, break it down from within. I can work on that, Tony, if you can fry Cho’s operational system.”

“Yeah, about that…” Tony didn’t move, instead gazing intently at the two holograms hovering nearby. “These guys and I have been talking. I’m wondering if instead of destroying it, it would be better to turn it into something we can use.”

“What?” Bruce sputtered. “You mean you want to put JARVIS in that thing?”

“No!” Tony retorted. “I want to help you do it. You’re the expert in that field, not me. And it’s his idea.”

“I was not affected by the scepter earlier, you will recall, Dr. Banner,” JARVIS pointed out. “Since I had no physical capabilities, however, I could only watch helplessly, and was unable to render any assistance until Agent Barton arrived to be my hands and feet, so to speak. I know the stone would not negatively influence me, and…I believe Sir would say, I want a piece of the action.”

“This situation gives ‘all hands on deck’ several new levels of meaning." Despite his earlier burst of confidence, though, Tony looked hesitant. "Although, I mean, I don’t _want_ to lose him, we go way back, and—”

“I could do it.” HOMER spoke up unexpectedly. “As JARVIS said, we are very much alike. The similarities in our coding are almost like the correspondences of familial DNA in humans. If he is immune to the effects, I should be also. I was built to help, I helped SHIELD agents for years, but I haven’t been able to do anything for so long. JARVIS told me about Ultron, that he wants to kill the Avengers, but that’s wrong. He shouldn’t want to hurt you, or hurt anybody. I can help! I want to.” The voice became less mechanical with every sentence, until it was almost throbbing with emotion, amazing in a man-made entity. Then again, nothing Tony created surprised me anymore.

“I talked to Helen just now,” Tony put in. “Ultron was loading his consciousness into it, through a gem he got out of the scepter and implanted in the body; but Steve interrupted the process and she cancelled it. So it’s sitting there, empty; the code that was originally in it is in Ultron now. If we replace it, with JARVIS, or even with HOMER, an consciousness that’s interested in humans and wants to help us out, that gives us an extra defensive deployment.”

“I have scanned all of HOMER’s systems,” JARVIS assented. “They are all clear. If I might make a suggestion…it would be—kind—after his enforced solitude, to give him an opportunity to act according to his programming.”

“There, you see?” Tony spun and pointed at Bruce. “You want to be unkind to this little fella, who’s volunteering to pitch in, after he’s been in solitary confinement for years for no crime? Total violation of his Miranda rights, probably the Geneva Convention, who knows what else—”

“Okay, okay!” Bruce threw his hands up. “I think it’s crazy, I think they’ll call us mad scientists, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

Tony slanted a sideways look at me. “You’ve been awful quiet, cornbread. About to sabotage me?”

“What? No. just listening, and thinking.” I looked at the holos for another second, then returned Tony’s gaze. “It seems to me that this was brought to you for a reason, and the fact that JARVIS found HOMER at the same time, makes it feel like…it’s maybe meant to be?”

“Right! Good talk. Let’s get jiggy with it, Brucie-bear—” A buzz interrupted him, and he waved a hand at a counter where his phone lay ringing. “Play secretary for me, Chrissy?”

“As long as it’s within my security clearance.” I scooped the StarkPhone up to glance at the screen. “It’s Steve.”

“He’s due back any minute—can you explain what we’re doing before he comes rolling in here with the Disappointed Captain America face?”

“Oh, thanks a lot. All you have to do is science shit up, you leave me the hard part!” I turned away, leaving Tony and Bruce to resume their techno-babble, and answered. “Hey Steve. It’s Chrissy. Tony’s got his hands full, but if you need to discuss something top secret, I’ll put it on speaker and leave the lab.”

“Hi, Chris. Not top secret, sorry. I’m almost there, but I wanted to give everybody advance notice. I’m, uh, bringing a couple of unexpected guests. The Maximoffs.”

“You caught them!” I tried to hold my excitement down.

“Better. Or not, depending on your perspective, I suppose. The girl, Wanda, read Ultron’s thoughts. No, don’t ask me how, she says she’s not sure how she did it herself. She saw he was lying to her, and she and her brother escaped him. They helped me save people in Seoul, they gave me all the information on Ultron’s plans that they knew, and they want to help stop him.”

I stepped farther away from the science-melee, and lowered my voice even more. “But—you know what she can do, Steve. How can you be sure she isn’t influencing you? If I were Ultron, I’d love to get two of my most powerful ops Trojan-horsed into the other side’s HQ.”

“I don’t. I’m not sure we have a better option right now, though! We’re probably better off having them where we can keep an eye on them than out on the loose and even more bitter for having their offer of assistance rejected. I’ve told them, once Ultron is down, we’ll have to turn them over to the authorities, but if they help, that’ll be a mark in their favor. No, I am _not_ happy about this. Not after what they did to my team. But given the situation, we can’t afford to turn any help down.”

“Yeah, all hands on deck, I guess, like Tony said,” I sighed. “He and Bruce are working on helping get another one. I can bring you up to speed—”

“We’re landing right now,” Steve interrupted. “Be there in a minute.”

I returned Tony’s phone, dreading the conversation I was about to have to have. Dancing around the facts wasn’t going to be any easier than just saying them. “Steve’s back,” I told him and Bruce. “He brought the Maximoffs. It sounds like they saw through Ultron and basically defected.” Tony ranted a bit, naturally. Bruce was silent, but the look of alarm on his face said all that needed to be said. “Steve’s not welcoming them with open arms, needless to say,” I said when Tony stopped for breath. “I’m interested in seeing them, getting a first impression.”

“You’re good at reading people,” Tony nodded. “Go. Scoot. Read!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony uses the term 'red-tops' in this chapter--it's a British term for the tabloid press, that he uses kiddingly to refer to the media as a whole. I headcanon he picked up a few such turns of phrases from being pretty much raised by Jarvis.
> 
> JARVIS takes after his Sir in more ways than one. Look at him, adopting orphaned science children, hehe. HOMER comes from the comics. He was indeed built by Tony, but I made up the backstory that got him into SHIELD’s system. 
> 
> https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Heuristically_Operative_Matrix_Emulation_Rostrum_(Earth-616)
> 
> And before you panic about the appearance of the Maximoffs, think about the team dynamics in this verse, and try to imagine this Steve taking any dang body's side against other Avengers, especially Tony...


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrissy meets the Maximoffs and has a most unexpected reaction. Tony and Bruce's experiment with HOMER yields a new ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longish chapter, but couldn't find a good place to break it, so here ya go! If my chapters had titles, I think one candidate for this one might be 'In Which Steve Rogers Demonstrates Adequate Powers of Observation and Recall'. :D

With mission assigned, I headed for the roof. The fearsome ‘miracle twins’ Steve introduced me to turned out to be nervous-looking and barely past their teens. Not that that made me much more kindly disposed toward them. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not real welcoming, considering you,” I pointed to the boy, who looked a little like a bleached blond surfer dude, “nearly got one dear friend of mine killed, and _you_ ,” my finger moved to the red-haired girl, “traumatized the hell out of several others.”

“We know!” the boy, Pietro, burst out in good if strongly accented English. “But we must work with you. Ultron has to be stopped. He would destroy everything, wipe out the entire human race.”

“True,” I sighed and turned to Steve. “Like I started to tell you, Tony and Bruce are working on another plan to get more firepower on the hoof.” Quickly, I explained JARVIS’ return, bringing HOMER with him, and Tony’s idea to use the vessel Ultron had schemed for as part of the Avengers’ force against the rogue.

“I told you!” the girl cried to Steve. “I told you Stark wouldn’t dispose of the cradle’s contents. Ultron doesn’t know the difference between saving the world and destroying it. Where do you think he got that? It’s from—”

“The scepter,” Steve cut her off. “I explained that to you already. You’re obsessed with blaming Tony, but he didn’t do this. The scepter, or really the—the thing inside it—”

“To be more exact, the semi-intelligent code inside it,” I supplied.

Steve’s nod was jerky, his jaw set and angry. “It’s manipulative, it’s fixated—it’s just like HYDRA, it wants what it wants, and it’s made Ultron the same way.” 

_And you got your power from it,_ I thought with an icy glare at the girl Wanda, _and apparently you’re pretty much the same_. “That code is gone into Ultron, so the gem that contained it is empty. But it can be replaced with something that’s meant to serve and help, not rule and harm. That’s what Tony and Bruce are working on. You said yourself, y’all will need all the help you can get to take him on.”

Steve looked skeptical. “After a crazy super-robot got loose on the world by accident, I don’t want us to set off another one on purpose.”

He started for the lab, the twins trailing, and I hurried to keep pace. “Bruce and Tony are doing due diligence out the ass, and I’ve talked with HOMER and I think you can trust him.”

“Whew,” he sighed. “Longing for the days when the weirdest thing science created was me. I guess it’s…” Steve’s stride hesitated, at the same moment I felt something odd, like a hand pressing against the back of my head. I reached up, casually, as if to run my fingers through my hair; nothing physical was there, but still, the pressure was firm, as though trying to push me forward. Beneath it, my scalp prickled with a sudden heat I had experienced once before. Steve let out an abrupt angry huff and started to stomp toward the lab doors. “No. This playing with nature is out of line. They have to shut it down—”

I grabbed Steve’s arm with one hand, and swung around to confront Wanda Maximoff, who was on my heels. “What are you doing to him?” I snapped.

“Nothing!” Pietro insisted. “She said she would not, and she isn’t. Are you, sister?”

“Bullshit,” I shook my head. “You got your powers from HYDRA using the scepter on you, right? It tried to get into my head once; I know what it feels like. You were trying to do something to him, or to both our minds.” I glanced at him, taking in the fuzzy and slightly confused look on his face, clearing and replaced by renewed anger at her, as I watched; not the abrupt change of attitude that had been happening a second before, though. “You were trying to push him to get mad at Tony and Bruce, weren’t you?”

“I—I didn’t intend to. I only wanted to make him see reason! Stark must be stopped!”

“And who made you God, that you know everything everybody _must_ do?” Steve’s voice took on that crack of command. ”You gave your word not to get out of line. It’s very disappointing that you broke it within a few minutes. If your word means so little to you, how do you expect it to mean anything to anyone else?”

One more step got me all up in the girl’s face, and I dropped my voice to a very low and reasonable tone. “It appears the team is stuck with you for the moment. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that. Just know this, girly-girl: if you mess with my friends again, any of them, but most especially, if you even think about touching Tony’s mind ever again—as the Lord God is my witness, _I will make you pay_.”

Both gaped at me, but Pietro regained composure first. “You Americans, you don’t hit people like that.”

I allowed myself a small smirk. “I don’t have to ‘hit’ people like the Avengers do. That’s not where my power is. The right words in the right place have far more impact than a blow. I will not let you hurt them anymore. That’s a promise. End of discussion.” With that, I turned to Steve and grinned. “Ooh, I got the Impressed Captain America face. Excellent.”

“This is serious, Chris,” he remonstrated, though with a spark in his eye.

“Oh, I’m serious as a heart attack, darlin’,” I assured him just as a boom rattled the building. This was a familiar one, though. “Thor’s here.”

Thor was indeed there, as we found when we went into the lab area. He stood in a deceptively casual pose, leaning on his hammer watching Tony and Bruce busy at work. “—the genetic coding tower's at ninety-seven percent, you’ll need to upload that schematic in the next three minutes,” Bruce was saying.

“Hey, Cap,” Tony raised a hand without looking up from the graphic he was manipulating. “Thor’s got some intel you’ll wanna hear. Chrissy briefed you on what we’re hoping to do here, right? Dumb question, I can always count on her.” I couldn’t suppress a little smile at that. “You’re probably dubious, can’t say I blame you, but—” He looked up, registered the other two people who had entered with us. “Shit. I was hoping Chrissy misunderstood. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Are you sure you guys do?” Steve countered with a gesture toward the pod.

“She’s not in your head, Steve?” Bruce added.

Wanda took a tentative step forward. “I know you’re angry—” she started, facing Bruce.

“Oh, we're way past that,” Bruce’s voice was calm, but tight as a guitar string. “At this point, I could choke the life out of you and never change a shade.”

“Okay, let’s try not to be killing anybody right now?” I held my hands up. “As far as her powers, we’re all right, I think, on that score. I, um, seem to be able to kinda feel when she’s using them? So she's not in anybody's head.”

That made Tony step away from his screen altogether and come to me, his expression morphing from tension to full-on worry. “Chrissy, what—how? You shouldn’t be—”

“When HYDRA had me test my powers on their prisoners,” Wanda unexpectedly offered, “there were a few who could resist, to varying degrees. None said they could sense my power directed at others, but they might not have wanted to give HYDRA that kind of information.”

Despite myself, I appreciated her willingly sharing that knowledge. “Thanks,” I told her, then turned back to Tony. “Don’t stress, hot rod. It’s the same thing I felt when the scepter tried to influence me; like it was pushing me, and something in me was pushing back. If she’s right, maybe I just have a little natural sensitivity to it, or stuff that derives from it. Handy thing to have.”

“Handy indeed, if you can sense one of the Infinity Stones.” Thor’s voice rose above the ambient noise of the lab’s workings and the hum of the pod.

“That’s what’s in the scepter?” Steve asked.

“The Mind Stone, specifically. One of six of the most powerful forces in the universe. I’ve had a vision. A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life, and at its center is that.” He tapped on the pod. “It’s unparalleled in its destructive capabilities.”

“Then why would you let Stark—” Pietro protested.

Thor cut him short. “Because Tony is right.”

“Oh, it’s definitely the end times,” Bruce muttered with tongue in cheek. Tony and I mock-glared at him in unison.

“The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron,” Thor went on, “not alone.”

“All hands on deck,” Steve agreed. Abruptly, his hand locked onto Pietro’s arm. “So wherever you were planning to dash off to, son, it can wait.”

Clint chose that moment to rush in. “Got a message from Nat,” he reported. “She’s with Ultron, in—what the fuck are _they_ doing here?”

While Steve tried to explain the Maximoffs’ presence, and I the work in progress, an alarm began to bleat from Tony’s workstation. He dashed back to it and started to swear. “It’s taking more power to activate than we thought. I may have to reroute the upload.”

“Wait!” With a single (very impressive) leap, Thor stood atop the pod and lifted Mjolnir high over his head. In response to his signal, lightning began to crackle through the air. After a few seconds to let it build up, he swung downward and contacted the lid of the pod, draining all that electricity into the form within. 

It was reassuring in a weird way that everybody else in the room’s jaws were hanging open as far as mine was. Being superheroes, of course, they were never unprepared; Tony’s amazement didn’t stop him from summoning a gauntlet and chestplate, just in case things went badly, and Steve’s free hand closed on his shield. I stepped behind an installation, and promptly blew any chance of concealment by poking my head out around the corner to keep watching.

When the sizzle of juice transference died down, the lab was utterly silent for several beats. I started to clear my throat, but was halted by the crash of shattering glass. Thor was flung off the pod and landed some feet away, and a nude human-shaped figure burst forth as though hatching from a high-tech egg. It was tall, not gendered in appearance; its skin was a vivid purplish-red streaked with silver seams. Its head turned from side to side scanning its surroundings before it launched itself and flew over Thor’s head and across the entire lab floor. 

At the windowed wall, it halted and hovered. Thor and Steve followed at a cautious distance, Thor setting down his hammer and holding up one arm to warn others off. I slid out far enough to see the form; at first, I thought it was taking in the spectacular view of Manhattan, until one hand rose to its face and I realized it was looking at its reflection in the glass. The humans in the space, Avengers and otherwise, moved into the center of the room, and the figure floated over to us and settled to stand. “That was…odd,” it said, then added, “Thank you,” to Thor. _Manners, he's got manners,_ I thought. _Good start._ From seemingly nowhere, an Asgardian-style cloak appeared at the entity’s shoulders and flowed down its—his—back.

“You do sound like HOMER,” I marveled.

The eyes that focused on me were human in shape, but strangely mechanistic at the same time. Still, they were more expressive than I would have imagined. “I am HOMER, in part, but I am also something…new.” He walked forward. Tony, wide-eyed, met him halfway, and they looked each other over.

Steve sighed again. “I’ve almost had my fill of ‘new’.”

“You think I am a child of Ultron,” the entity said to him. “I’m not. I’m not Ultron, or HOMER. I’m…I _am_.”

“The name of God,” Wanda said, moving out of her brother’s protective arms and toward the entity with surprising bravery. “’I Am’. Do you think you are a god? I looked in your head, before, and saw annihilation.”

“I do not,” he replied. “I am, perhaps, a part of that god’s vision.” He gestured toward Thor. “Look again into my head, and see what is there now.”

“Not that her seal of approval means jack shit to me,” Clint snapped, “not after what she did to you guys.”

“Their powers, those horrors they plucked from our minds, Ultron himself—they all came from the Mind Stone, and they are among the least of its capabilities,” Thor said. “With it on our side, though, we have a chance.”

“Are you?” Steve pressed the entity. “Are you on our side?”

“I’m on the side of life,” he replied after a moment of contemplation. “Ultron isn’t. He would end it all.” Pietro nodded fervently. 

Tony, as usual, cut to the chase. “What’s he waiting for?”

“You,” the entity told him, simply. I forced back a shudder and moved closer to Tony’s side.

“He’s in Sokovia,” Clint said. “That’s where he’s got Nat. She just got a message out to me, that’s what I came to tell you guys.” 

Bruce’s brows knitted, and he looked more than ready to mess some shit up to get her back safe. “If we're wrong about you,” he said, advancing on the entity, “if you're the monster that Ultron intended for you to be...”

“What will you do?” He looked at them all, as if realizing they would end him in that case, then began to pace slowly around the room, reminding me of a more deliberate version of Tony on a thinking jag. “I don't _want_ to kill Ultron. He's unique, and he's in pain. But that pain will roll over the earth, so he must be destroyed. Every form he's built, every trace of his presence on the net—we have to act now.” Clint nodded slowly as we all listened. “And not one of us can do it without the others.” He gazed down at his hands. “Maybe I am mad, maybe a monster. As I told JARVIS before, I don't think I'd know if I were.” Tony hung his head, as if halfway ashamed of what he had made, and I slipped my arm around his waist in reassurance. “I'm not what you are, and not what you intended. So there may be no way to make you trust me. But we need to go.”

He turned around and held Mjolnir out to Thor. I strangled a yelp. Thor took the hammer without saying a word. In fact, nobody made a sound, and every Avenger’s face held the same blank look of shock as the entity walked away. Thor finally broke the silence. “If he can lift the hammer, I trust him with the Stone.” He walked over to Tony, slapped him on the shoulder and said with deep emotion, “Well done!”

Tony looked dazed now. I just grinned and squeezed him. “He’s worthy,” I said simply, then hustled off to get one important piece of intel. 

Outside the lab area, I paused, trying to guess which way a newcomer—a newborn—might go. Then I had an idea; I closed my eyes and concentrated on sensation. Sure enough, I could feel a slight something. It wasn’t the blunt force of the scepter, or the aggressive shove of the Maximoff girl’s powers, more like the way you can locate the direction of the sun outside with your eyes shut. I held on to it, opened my eyes and followed it, chasing the entity down in a few moments. 

“Excuse me?” I called and caught up with his stride. “You’re not HOMER, and you’re certainly not Ultron, so what would you prefer to be called?”

“Ah. Names. Names have power, it’s said.” I nodded. “And I may choose my own. Auspicious, that….Call me Vision, then.”

“Sounds good.” I put out my hands. “Hello, Vision. It’s nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sequence of Vision's birth in canon is one big freaking wad of chaos, for my money, so I was determined to make it anything but. Moving Thor's information about the Infinity Stones to come before he aids in Vision's awakening, along with Steve being more concerned with his teammates' wellbeing than in that of the HYDRA defectors he just picked up, creates a much more sensible flow, imho.
> 
> Thoughts on Chrissy's apparent ability to sense Wanda's power? no, I didn't expect it either. lol. And I hope everybody is pleased with how the twins appear. I don't intend to totally vilify them, but they both have some learning to do, and they aren't going to get by with the harm they've done.
> 
> Thanks again to everybody who reads, kudos and comments! I appreciate you all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers prepare for the final clash with Ultron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be out of pocket the next few days, so next update will likely be next Monday. Until then, in honor of RDJ's birthday, have a chapter in which Tony gets treated right. :)

The tower erupted in activity, as the Avengers dispersed to prep for battle. I started to clear out, figuring there was nothing I could do to help, until Steve waved me over. Wanda and Pietro stood beside him, still looking ill at ease. “Chris, could you scare them up some grub? They haven’t eaten all day, and I imagine their powers incorporate metabolisms out of the, um…”

“Squishy baseline human range?” I teased him gently. “Sure, two to go coming up. Sorry I don’t have time to take orders,” I said to the twins, “but do either of you have any allergies?”

They shook their heads, and I raced off and threw some pimiento cheese sandwiches together and into a sack. When I got back, the two of them had moved away, down the hallway toward the roof access to the Quinjet, and Steve was going over plans with Tony and Bruce. “--gonna be blood on the floor,” Tony was saying as I paused beside them.

“I got no plans tomorrow night,” Steve said dryly, but the look he and Tony exchanged spoke far louder.

Wanda and Pietro thanked me with amusingly identical expressions of mild surprise. “Can’t have you two keeling over from hunger, instead of evacuating civilians,” Steve told them.

“I could do that too,” I pointed out to Steve. “Evacuate people, I mean. All hands on deck. I’ve got experience at moving crowds out of harm’s way, ask Tony.”

“Ask Tony and Tony will say Hell no,” the man in question said sharply. “With Fury co-opting Hill, we need you here to hold the fort down. I’m keeping JARVIS out of the suit, but I’m going to have him cut Ultron off from the net, so since you’re always on comms, I need you to pass the signal to him. Pepper’ll be home in a couple of hours, too, and I need you here to back her up.”

A part of me wanted to argue, but it wasn’t the place or the time. “I’m on it,” I said.

Tony nodded, then dropped his voice and turned back to Steve with a sudden air of hesitancy. “Cap, are you—planning to keep the wonder twins here? Until SHIELD takes custody of them? A jail’s not gonna hold either of them, not even that gigantic floating thing off the coast, so I figured, there’s room enough here, you’d probably want to—"

If things hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed out loud at the utterly flabbergasted look on Steve’s face. “What? Tony, this is _your_ house. I don’t have the right to invite anybody to just up and move in, let alone somebody who hurt you the way Wanda Maximoff did. I’m willing to give her and her brother a chance to put right what they did wrong. If a Nazi had turned himself in to me, helped the Howlies, knew Hitler had lied to him and kept all evidence of the truth from him—I’d’ve given him a chance, but I wouldn’t have trusted him, and I don’t trust them. Although,” he added ruefully, “I’m not sure where to put them after this is over. That’s gonna be SHIELD’s problem, though, because I know you well enough to know what you’d do. You’d swallow the—the apprehension, you’d put on that fake smile you give the press when they get to you before Chris can round them up and herd them off, and show them to one of those nice guest suites Pepper put in downstairs. And then, you’d hole up in your workshop and not sleep until they left. No. Absolutely not. You are my friend, Tony. I will not do that to you.”

For all the anticipatory anxiety in the air, I had to swallow a small laugh at the bewildered look on Tony’s face. Bruce said nothing, but his sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing, and the tension in his body eased a hair. “Uh…okay,” Tony finally said. “Yeah. Thanks.” Steve cocked his head with just a hint of the Disappointed Captain America look. I had the definite sense he was half a second away from saying _did you really think I’d expect you to put those two up under your roof?_ Fortunately, he didn’t say it, and the three returned to strategizing. “I get first crack at the big guy,” Tony told Steve. “Iron Man's the one he's waiting for.”

“That's true,” Vision said as he strode past. “He hates you the most.”

“Don’t get yourselves killed, please,” I requested. “Especially not you, Tony. Pull that shit on me, and swear to God, I’ll go find that sorcerer that’s supposed to live in Greenwich Village and have him resurrect you so I can slap the snot out of you. You are not gonna leave me with my ass in a sling, trying to explain to Pepper how you ended up six feet under thanks to a galvanized bucket of narcissism and loose screws.”

“Not how I’m planning to go, either.” Tony arranged his face in his usual cocky smirk, which only lasted until I reached out to hug him. “I’ll be fine, cornbread, don’t worry. If anybody knows how to play can opener, it’s me, right? Besides, I have too much to get back here and handle. This thing in your head, I wanna know what the fuck is up with it. I don’t like it.”

“What, you don’t like that I have a superpower? Well, okay, not a superpower, but, heck, if I was born with a little talent I just discovered, how can you begrudge me that?”

I spoke lightly, but Tony’s dark eyes were serious. “I don’t! But I think I’m entitled to worry a little, I’m the one who sucked you into all this.”

“We’ve been through this before, hot rod.” I shook my finger at him. “My life, my choices.” I hugged him tightly again. “We can test it out when you get back, though. If I can tell when Wanda is using her powers, that’ll make it easier to be certain they’re on the level.”

“I’m not thrilled about having to fly halfway around the world with her,” Tony muttered the admission into my neck. “People deserve second chances, I know that, me being chief among them, and the team’ll be right there, so it’s dumb of me, I know, but I’m antsy…and Bruce is even worse.”

“It’s not dumb to be anxious about having to be around somebody who hurt you!” I scolded gently. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? Just me being there might help you and Bruce both to relax.”

“No, Chrissy. Stay here and safe. We’re gonna get this job done. Ultron thinks we’re the monsters, we're what's wrong with the world. We’ve gotta prove him wrong.”

“That should be easy.” I tapped his nose. “He is. Wrong, I mean. Now skededdle. Hand Oscar the Grouch his trashcan ass and get on back here. Nat gave me a recipe for these Russian pancakes I’m dying to try. And Pepper’s been without you for eleven days, and she can be really peevish when she’s that horny, so on her behalf—”

“Argh! I did not need to know that you are that well informed about my personal life, Everhart!” Tony pulled away, gave me one more brave smile and sprinted off to suit up.

I watched him go, and then went over to where the Maximoffs had examined the sandwiches with curiosity, and now were shoving the last of them in their faces. “You didn’t have to rush! I packed them for you to eat on the way.”

“No, it’s fine. We were hungrier than we thought, I suppose.” Pietro handed me the trash while I walked with them toward the elevator. “Thank you. It was very good.”

“Thanks. Maybe, once this Ultron mess is cleared away, you can visit for dinner sometime. I like to cook.”

Wanda brightened. “I do too. You might like to learn some Sokovian recipes?”

“I might,” I allowed. “What’s Sokovian food like?”

“Sweet and spicy,” Pietro answered, “like my little sister here.” He tugged her hair and she swatted at him.

“Little sister?” I asked. “I thought you two were twins.”

“Twelve minutes older,” Pietro said smugly.

“And he never lets me forget it,” Wanda shot back. We walked a moment in silence. “You and Stark—I thought at first you were lovers, but you are not.” I halted and glared, and she raised her hands. “I didn’t look into anybody’s minds! Being with HYDRA, we had to learn to observe, in order to survive. Well, I did. This one, not so much.” Pietro just grinned.

“I believe you.” I hadn’t sensed anything, though I had no clue yet how reliable that feeling was. “But no, Tony is one of my best friends. His lover is another, actually.”

“He…is not what I expected. We hated him, all our lives, for the deaths of our parents.”

I frowned and shook my head. “Tony wouldn’t have had anything to do with that. He never sold arms to anyone in Sokovia. His business partner did, illegally, but Tony’s been working to clean them up ever since he found out several months ago. It’s been all over the news there, surely you should have seen it. I set up interviews and a translator—that’s one of my jobs with the Avengers, making the public aware of important information.” At their blank looks, I said, “You…didn’t know that? You didn’t. Lovely. HYDRA’s shitty communication skills screw somebody else over. Okay, no time now, so all the more reason for you to be careful and come back safely. When you do, I promise, I will pop you popcorn, sit you down and tell you a story that will probably blow your little minds. Now go! I will be praying for all of you.”

That really seemed to startle them. “Uh…thank you,” Wanda said in a suddenly small voice.

Pietro actually took my hand and kissed it. “You are beautiful and kind,” he said. “When I return a hero, perhaps I shall ask to court you.”

I snorted. “I’m probably old enough to be your mama, you brat. Scoot.”

“Can you blame a guy for trying?” he shrugged, before a blushing Wanda hauled him away. 

“He does this a lot!” she apologized while dragging him to the hatchway. 

“I hear you,” I called back to her. “I’ve had to apologize for Tony more than a few times. Not for this kind of thing, but—never mind. Go!”

Repulsor engines whined and the Quinjet raced away to what might be the Avengers’ hardest battle since the Chitauri invasion. I watched until the speck faded into the horizon, then sighed and went looking for a broom to clean up the mess Vision’s birth had made of the lab floor. _They also serve who only stand and wait._ When forced to wait, my brain decides to go into high gear, which sometimes is not so good, but sometimes…sometimes some really good ideas emerge. I pondered while I swept, and once done, I called Maria. The noise in the background when she picked up sounded like some giant factory, with much knocking and banging. “Hey gal, quick question,” I asked her. “How can I get in touch with Phil?”

The secret agent chats were done and I was firing up the comm link when Pepper came in. I braced to catch her up, but it didn’t take as long as I had figured. “I’ve been keeping up with your press releases. They don’t know yet what this Ultron is planning, though?” she asked.

“Not yet.” The live video feed from the Iron Man HUD was still a work in progress, but we got flashes. Ultron chilled me to my bones with his defiant strutting. Tony stalled him while the others fought off the robotic drones attacking the Sokovian capital city, and from his bolthole, JARVIS began the process of severing his foe’s ties to the internet to keep him from escaping that way again.

The Maximoffs had been given comm earpieces, and we listened as they ordered people out of their houses and to safety, teasing each other in typical sibling fashion in between, in a mix of Sokovian and English. “Good move, delegating,” Pepper remarked with a note of approval, when Wanda began to enlist older children from a school to organize and lead their younger classmates to safety. They touched base with Clint every few minutes; I guessed Steve had assigned them to him, and explained why to Pepper. 

“Did you send that one out?” Wanda called to her brother. “The big man in the cap. He’s moving that whole rest home out—I saw him carrying old women.”

“I thought you did,” Pietro responded. “He looks familiar. Wasn’t he at the base? One of the assassins, I think?”

“Perhaps.” Wanda’s reply was hesitant, and I could envision her squinting across streets choked with dust and debris to get a better look at the man they were discussing. “No time to pursue old acquaintance now. We can find him later.”

“Wow, shows you how bad the situation is, if another ex-HYDRA is pitching in to help,” I said. 

Over the comms, Steve fired off orders. Clint called Nat’s name, and a few moments later her voice popped into the chatter. Pepper and I exchanged relieved looks, but our relief lasted only moments, until a deep and ominous bang sounded. “Sokovia’s going for a ride, boss,” FRIDAY warned.

“What’s going on? JARVIS!” Pepper called. “Is it safe for you to come back yet? What’s Ultron trying to do?”

“Ultron is burned out of the net, Miss Potts,” JARVIS affirmed. “It appears from the data FRIDAY is feeding me that his intent is to drop the city of Novigrad from a sufficient height to cause a global event similar to a massive meteor strike.”

“Which would cause a dust cloud enveloping the world and sending us into a nuclear winter.” I stared at Pepper. “Tell me, how in the hell would I explain that to the Post and the Daily News?”

“Let’s hope you don’t have to,” Pepper said firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Chrissy mentioned a sorcerer in Greenwich Village. Yes, it is who you probably think it is. Yes, I know that borks with the canon time line. Since when have y'all known me to slavishly cling to the canon time line? lol


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Sokovia ends, and the Avengers and their associates work to clean up the aftermath.

The battle against Ultron’s robotic platoon raged on. Tony and FRIDAY cooked up a plan that would vaporize the city and keep it from crashing, but it sounded like they were too high now to get the last of the civilians—or the rest of the Avengers—clear. I thought of all the things my friends had to live for, and prayed with all my being for them to get the chance. 

I can’t imagine Nick Fury ever considered himself to be an answer to prayer, but hearing his booming voice suddenly sound over the comms certainly was. Tony’s video feed flickered back on and showed the welcome sight of a helicarrier hovering nearby. I smiled. “You…don’t sound very surprised,” Pepper said, after she closed her mouth, which was hanging open.

“I may have had advance warning,” I returned and thought, _Thank you. Phil!_

Maria’s crisp tones ordered rescue pods out to load up with evacuees, and, wonder of wonders, sent Rhodey and Sam out to join the fray. “Okay, Avengers,” Tony called, “time to work for a living!”

With that, they went at Ultron and his remaining constructs with everything they had—“together”, as Tony quoted Steve. In the background of Tony’s visual, we caught glimpses of Rhodey whizzing around with Vision to take on robots airborne, and Sam ushering the last few survivors onto pods. “Don’t let any of ‘em get past you, honeybear!” Tony hollered.

“We know, we know,” Rhodey mock-grumbled. “Whoa! What was that? One of you guys just throw a Roboto over the side?”

“Nope, everybody’s present and accounted for,” Tony replied. “Maybe it stopped for a beer, got drunk and fell off?”

“Sokovian beer is potent stuff,” Pietro added. “I will treat you all to one later, if you dare.”

“You guys might want to look up whoever made that pitch and recruit him,” Sam snarked as he blasted a few drones himself.

Steve ordered everybody clear. Of all people, Wanda volunteered to stay behind and block Ultron from reaching the vibranium stash until Tony and Thor could execute their plan. I wished I could cover Pepper’s ears when Tony said in a low voice, “You know if this works, we maybe don’t walk away.” _You damn well better_ , I thought. They could both fly, they would be okay, they had to.

Nat was calming Hulk, and Clint ran back to find a missing child, taking Pietro with him to navigate the city’s ruined streets quicker. The last of the ‘lifeboats’ was about to pull off, when the roar of an engine drowned out all sound on the comms. “That sounds like the quinjet,” Pepper frowned, “but who’s—” Screams and shouts sounded faintly in the background, before being overwhelmed by the racket of rapid weapons fire and Ultron’s voice singing maniacally. A moment later, Clint yelled, “We got the kid, but somebody come help me out here. Pietro’s hit!”

“On my way!” Steve yelled. Wanda cried out; I wondered if she could feel her twin’s pain, and felt slightly sick at the thought. The jet engine’s noise lessened. “Where’s he going?” Steve’s voice took on a note of panic.

“It’s not him,” Nat panted. “Hulk jumped—threw Ultron out. It’s Hulk in there. Hey, big guy, we did it, you did a great job. Come on back now. The sun’s getting mighty low…”

Tony’s call sounded through the comms. “Everybody get clear! Thor, on my mark, hit it…now!”

A massive boom issued, almost painfully loud through the tiny comm speakers; on the scene, it must have been ear-splitting. I did a swift mental roll call. “Where’s Wanda?” I said, then bit my tongue when I heard reverb and knew my words had been heard on the other end.

“I am all right. Ultron’s main body is no more. The Vision has me,” Wanda replied almost instantly. “Who is asking after me?”

“It’s me, Wanda, Christine. Sorry, I didn’t put myself back on mute. How’s Pietro, y’all?”

“Got a couple slugs in him,” Clint sounded exhausted. “We’re hustling him to the helicarrier’s sick bay.”

“Good,” I nodded. “As long as I’m on here, screw it, where’s Tony and Thor?”

“Listening to you offend Cap by cussing on our channel,” Tony spoke up. Steve let out a resigned little groan.

Pepper looked like she might melt into a puddle of relief on the floor. “I’m getting too old to put up with this shit,” she muttered. “Tony’s too old to be _doing_ this shit.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I allowed. We kept listening: everybody got safely aboard the helicarrier and Pietro was being patched up. The quinjet landed and Bruce staggered out to, if Maria’s report was accurate, practically faceplant at Nat’s feet. Vision appeared with word that the last of Ultron’s drones had been destroyed. “That means the bastard is done,” I said with much satisfaction. “You hungry, Pep? I made a fresh batch of pimiento cheese yesterday.”

It took several days for the Avengers to make their way home. The helicarrier had to find a place to let off the entire population of a small Eastern European capital city, after all. A lot of the former residents of Novigrad had family elsewhere, and in a manner that reminded me of growing up in the American South, their kin opened their homes to strangers too. In fact, considering Sokovia’s recent history of political and sectarian unrest, the crisis had obliged the populace to pull together in a way unimaginable just weeks before. 

Pepper dispatched crews from the Maria Stark Foundation to clear the rubble of the fallen town and set up temporary housing for those who needed it. From the reports she shared with me, the Maximoffs had pitched in with a will with Pietro on the mend, and were helping their fellow citizens in every way they could find. That was good to hear, and in combination with their deeds against Ultron, I hoped it meant the twins were being straight with us.

Meanwhile, back in Manhattan, I brought my own skills, such as they were, to bear. The groundwork I had constructed in the months and years I had worked for the Avengers Initiative stood me in good stead when events occurred that involved much property damage—thankfully, in this case, there was no loss of life, though I swear I didn’t know how the team had managed it. The best approach, as Tony and I had discussed before, was to tell the truth but not load people down with unnecessary details that would just scare or confuse them. it was a delicate balancing act, and one I had, if I said so myself, gotten darn good at.

At the next major presser, a tabloid reporter tried to call me out, arguing that the Avengers hared off to go smash stuff up and then came back home to Stark Tower. With a longsuffering sigh, I reiterated the information I’d already conveyed about the MSF’s work on its own and in tandem with the Red Cross and other NGOs. “It’s not like this is new to the Avengers, either,” I pointed out to the man, who looked more than irritated that his mansplaining had fallen on its ass. “After the Chitauri incursion here in New York, Asgard reached out to help the city get itself back together. The Avengers care. They wouldn’t be fighting threats to the planet if they didn’t. It’s war, it’s not pretty, and nobody is forcing them to do what they do. They know that if you are given a talent, a gift, a power, it comes with a certain—responsibility, to use that to help others. Nobody obliged Thor, for example, to help defend the earth. Captain Rogers was Army, true, but if you check a calendar, you’ll note that his enlistment period ran out a long time ago.” That provoked chuckles all around—well, except for the dumbass I was politely schooling. “Nobody made him step up, but he did. And Lord knows _nobody_ makes Tony Stark do anything he doesn’t want to do, am I right?”

The jerk backed down, and a young woman rose with the next question. “To follow up on your previous response, Ms Everhart: from all indications, Mr. Stark and the other Avengers are committed to doing the right thing. We are obliged to trust them on that, though, with the governmental agency they answered to splintered. What happens if and when other people with hero-level skills or powers come along, who aren’t so committed to their fellow humans’ well-being?”

“My immediate answer," I responded, "is that that is a really good and important question. The long-term answer is above my pay grade, I’d say. The Avengers do still work with government and non-government entities, as I said earlier, and I suspect plans for future accountability are in the works. Ask me again when things have calmed down, and hopefully I’ll have more specifics I can share. Give ‘em a month or two after the next superpowered crisis, and let ‘em catch their breath.”

The presser left me with considerable food for thought. Nobody’s public image is one hundred percent positive, and as hard as I had worked, that applied to the Avengers too. There were going to be people spouting negativity, just because haters gonna hate, or because they had some personal beef or philosophical disagreement, or they wanted attention. I was determined, more so than ever, to get out in front of any burgeoning disapproval, to push back in a subtle but clear way. I made pages of notes, brainstormed ideas to increase the team’s visibility and perception, and then bounced them off Pepper one evening on the roof. “A team interview on _60 Minutes_?” she asked with a skeptical tilt of her head.

“It wasn’t even my idea! The network’s been reaching out for months. I don’t know if Thor could work it into his schedule, but the earthbound Avengers could. We’ve done all those individual media things, but I think if people can see them together, see how they interact, that will help the public perception even more.” I turned toward my cell phone lying on the little glass table before us. “Laura, do you think Clint would go for it? It wouldn’t involve you and the kids, obviously.”

“I think so. Depends on whether it interferes with our impending arrival, or him tearing out a wall.” Laura had told us all about one of Clint’s favorite coping mechanisms, which, surprisingly, was home improvement, and had increased with the prep for their new baby. “Speaking from middle America, it sounds like a great idea to open people’s eyes. That reminds me, Pepper, you and I should talk sometime. My situation isn’t the same as yours, my having been in intel, and us having children, but I’d venture a guess you probably have some of the same issues with Tony as I have with Clint, and I’d like to help you if I can.”

Hearing that delighted me—the challenges of loving a hero were not something I could help my friend with, much as I would like to. My skills lay down other paths, which I pursued with vigor. By the time the quinjet finally touched down home, I had a CBS producer on speed dial for whenever I could get a thumbs-up or thumbs-down on the project unfurling in my head. For the moment, though, I was most interested in hugging my friends and rejoicing in their safe return. 

“I was thinking,” Steve said quietly while his teammates shuffled off the jet and began to disperse to their respective lairs. 

“Uh-oh. That’s even more dangerous than Captain America’s shield,” I teased.

He rolled his baby blues at me, then inclined his head toward the Maximoffs, who emerged from the jet gazing around in silent but obvious wonder at the view of the New York skyline that they hadn’t had time to appreciate on their earlier landing. “The twins need a place to stay until their situation is resolved, but I still refuse to make Tony feel he has to put them up here. He spoke to them both on the helicarrier, and even on the flight back, which was great, but Wanda still makes him uncomfortable, I know, and understandably so. And Bruce barely looked at her the whole time. So I don’t know what to do with them. Maybe the Hulk room, since it blocked the scepter, might be okay for a few days, though I don’t like keeping them here even that short a—“

“Oh. I, uh, may have already taken care of that,” I interrupted him as Tony joined us.

“Whatever it is, I’m not at all surprised you’ve taken care of it, cornbread. Who’d you kill?” Tony bumped me with his hip.

“Nobody yet, unless you piss me off,” I mock-snarled, which lost all semblance of impact since I was giggling at the same time. Steve stood waiting, patient, as always. “Um, Maria’s friend from SHIELD, the one who came over and helped us out while y’all were in South Africa? Well, funny story, it turns out he actually runs SHIELD now. He’s a great guy, and I got in touch with him, and he has a safe house all set up for them.”

The moment when it clicked for Tony was almost visible on his face. “ _Phil_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed the presser in this chapter carries a distinct whiff of eau de Accords. :) This is where the title of the story truly comes into play, as the team, with the help of their wordsmith, is able to get out in front of public sentiment and shape it to help instead of hurt them. That will continue in later chapters, as Chrissy's idea for a team sit-down with the media is tossed around and worked into shape. (picture your favorite Avengers cast interview and you'll have an idea what she's thinking of.)
> 
> Wonder who could have thrown an Ultron drone bodily off the side of the rising city, who isn't an Avenger or associate...(whistles)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some shouting, a reunion.

There was a little yelling, once Steve put two and two together and dragged Tony away for a full report, but only a little. I managed to escape before the mighty grip of Captain America could haul me into the fracas, but Nat filled me in later. She refused to even acknowledge that her eyes were red. 

From all indications, it sounded as if when Fury had slipped onto the Bartons’ farm to meet with the Avengers, he probably should have gone in the front door instead of asking Laura to sneak him into their barn first, because Tony had, of course, called him out about keeping their supposedly-dead friend’s not-actually-dead status from them all. Nick had told him pretty much what Phil himself had told me, that the procedure that saved him was sketchy and Fury didn’t want to get people’s hopes up. Also, something was said about Phil’s dying wish being for Fury to use his sacrifice to motivate the Avengers, to make them come together as a team. I wasn’t sure I bought that, but again, Fury’s secrets had secrets.

“Nobody’s mad at Tony, are they?’ I asked Nat. “If anybody was at fault, it was me.”

“Nobody is mad at anybody. Tony told us you stumbled across it, that Phil wanted to tell us himself. Fury asked Tony to hold off on saying anything, to respect Phil’s choice. The only reason Tony spoke up now was—well, you know Steve still doesn’t really trust SHIELD, and knowing the person at the top is totally trustworthy was the only way he’d feel comfortable putting the Maximoffs in their hands. Those two aren’t much older than he was when he volunteered to be experimented on, and he wants to be certain they’re treated properly, but he wants to protect us too.

“The team’s…ambivalent, about them. Clint’s prone to bringing in strays.” Nat pointed to herself with a small smile. “He seems to see more in them, as he did in me. But, while they aren’t much more than kids, and they were distraught over their parents’ deaths and easily manipulated by HYDRA, they…” Nat sighed a little. “Wanda in particular hurt too many people he cares about, for him to readily trust her, but he does want to give them a chance, especially Pietro; the boy did take a bullet from Ultron that had Clint’s name on it. He’ll be almost as relieved when SHIELD shows up to take them as Bruce or Tony will, though, I think.”

That happened promptly; SHIELD agents showed up to escort Pietro and his sister away almost before the quinjet’s engines cooled down. The twins were understandably tense, but not as much as I had expected; Wanda confided that her brother was a fan of technology, and had been mightily impressed by the helicarrier. If that was what SHIELD was about, he had said, maybe it wasn’t so bad. They left with my promise to visit as soon as I could and straighten out their HYDRA-warped view of things.

About the Avengers, Nat was right, for the most part; everybody seemed to relax more in the hours and days that followed. Between my usual work tasks, and preparing for a virtual baby shower for Laura, I went to Tony to apologize for getting him in the middle of the Phil situation, and got scolded for thinking I had anything to apologize for. “Judging from what little bit Cap and I tortured out of Hill with classic rock—I swear, how that woman can be tough as ostrich boots when all she puts in her ear-holes is _jazz_ , I will never know—Coulson went through hell,” he told me while we walked through the halls of the topmost SI floor of the tower, where his and Pepper’s executive offices were. “We’re not about to hassle him. When he’s ready, he’ll give us a ring.”

That whole well-planned scheme was shot completely to shit when we got off the elevator at the Avengers’ common floor to the sound of Clint yelling and Nat swearing in Russian (cuss words tend to be the things I remember best in any language I’m exposed to. Go figure.) Tony headed for the living area at a trot; I followed more slowly, as he began to rant. “Shit, shit SHIT. We agreed on this, you two! What, did you handcuff him and drag him in here?”

“We asked him to come with us, Tony,” Natasha’s voice was softer now, but Tony sounded unappeased. 

“Dammit, I will serve both your superspy asses with eviction notices, see if I don’t. Disturbing the peace, welshing out of team pacts—I’d send you to bed without supper if I actually had a plan for supper—“ After a heavy sigh, he went on just as I reached the entranceway. “So Agent, how’s your cellist?”

Nat was leaning back against the bar, her arms crossed but practically vibrating with tension. Clint paced around the room looking like he was all for jumping off the tallest building he could find. And in the center of the room, with the same calm expression I had seen on his face after blowing away a shit-ton of rogue robotic drones with his Great Big Gun ™ stood Phil Coulson, facing a furious Tony. “Haven’t been in touch. It’s hard to keep love alive when you aren’t supposed to be.”

“Makes sense,” Tony admitted. “It’s good to see you. Despite what these two idiots may have led you to believe, we’re more pissed off at Fury than you.’

“Don’t be,” Phil replied. “I swore him to secrecy, made him promise to let me work out how to tell you, so that was all on me.”

Clint snarled, literally; it sounded like something he picked up from a circus animal as a kid. “And we’re the idiots? And you—you—arrrgh!” He and Nat converged on Phil, in that weird way they had sometimes of moving like two halves of a single entity run by a single mind. Phil’s eyes widened, before the tautness in his stance dissipated, barely noticed until it was gone and he relaxed into the three-way embrace. 

I quietly took a step back. The apprehension that had struck me at the realization of what was going on was soothed by seeing with my own eyes that what I had told Phil in a leap of faith was true; the team, at least this half of it, didn’t appear to hold his disappearance against him. I held back a small chuckle at the sight of Nat trying to coax Tony into a full-on group hug—I’d pay good money to see her succeed at that, but I wasn’t going to witness it. This was their time, to welcome their lost friend back to the land of the living. I turned to slip out, only to run face-first into a double-wide wall of manflesh, in the form of Steve and Thor in workout gear. “Hey, Chris,” Steve greeted me as he angled toward the kitchen, because everybody knew food from the common kitchen was better than anything one might have in one’s own. “What’s…going…” His voice trailed off as he came into view of the cuddle pile in the living area. Tony still wasn’t in it, but he was shifting from foot to foot and talking a mile a minute about absolutely nothing, which meant he really, really wanted to.

Thor tromped along like the huge puppy he was until he caught sight of the group. “Ah, supportive touch. This is good! We should join them, Captain.” Just about then, Nat finally coaxed Tony close enough for her to put an arm around him, and stopped grumbling in Russian. Tony had blocked the view from the doorway, and as soon as he shifted, Thor let out what was probably the Asgardian version of a Southern rebel yell. “SON OF COUL!!” he hollered and stormed the living room, grabbing everybody in sight up as he went. Steve was right behind him, with a disbelieving “Phil?” on his lips.

Phil managed to extricate himself from the now-laughing heap of Avengers and put out a hand to shake Steve’s. Steve looked at it and then him like he was crazy, and got the agent in a super-soldier hug that could have squashed lesser men. It sounded like Phil, once Steve let him go and he was able to breathe again, made an attempt to apologize, but nobody was having that. Thor boomed his joy, and Clint and Nat reclaimed their old pal. Steve and Tony slapped each other on the back; a breathless little grin tugged at Tony’s cheeks, and when Steve went to hug him he did not deflect. That warmed my heart, and I made another effort to slide out and leave them to their reunion.

“Christine!” Phil’s voice called from behind me. Bracing myself, I turned back from the hallway. 

Nobody was aiming any angry looks at me; on the contrary, Tony and Steve were both heading in my direction already. One of Tony’s hands held his phone, the other reached out to me. I let him take mine and pull me into the living room. “I’m—well, I don’t guess there’s any point in saying I’m sorry yet again, Phil, you already know that,” I said with all the sincerity in me.

“And you know, I already said, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Phil’s gentle but strong hands took mine. “Who knows how long I would have put this off, just hoping maybe they would forget me—“ This time Nat was the one who growled. “You did me a favor. Thank you.”

I really couldn’t think of anything to say. “I know I promised I’d make you supper, when you got around to telling them, but it's Tony's night, so I wasn’t planning to cook.”

“Already called for pizza,” Tony said, solving that problem. “Right before I texted Bruce to get his ass out of his lab and down here. I need to message Pep, too, she’s expecting me.” He paused, and lifted an eyebrow in Phil’s direction. “Although I hear you have a perfectly understandable fear of the Wrath of Potts. I could tell her to meet me here. Less chance of her killing you if you’re protected by earth’s mightiest heroes. And me.”

The uncertainty on Phil’s face was actually touching. “I…was concerned about upsetting her, yes. I had considered arranging a meeting with her, someplace discreet and quiet—“

“Watch it, Agent,” Tony mock-glowered. “You’re sounding entirely too much like you’re planning to seduce my CEO.”

“I did meet her before you made your move, Stark,” Phil retorted, but with a little half-smile that said he was anything but serious.

Tony waved a hand in dismissal, busy texting. “Okay,” he said after a few moments. “I prepared her, sort of.” The elevator dinged and Bruce appeared a moment later, his walk slowing in shock before he came to greet Phil. The team gathered around again, but Tony was eyeing the hallway, and I followed suit. When the ping sounded again, I took off in that direction, Tony hot on my heels. “You don’t have to get on this ride, cornbread.”

“I already am, Tony. It’s my fault Phil didn’t get the reveal on his own terms, so the least I can do is try to help make it easier for him.” Pepper stepped out of the car, looking from Tony to me with obvious puzzlement. I mentally pulled my big-girl panties up. “Hey, girlfriend. I have done a really crappy thing that kind of involves you, and I feel like I should be the one to tell you about it, so if you want to bean somebody, better me than the guy who came back from the dead.” Her frown deepened. “Remember telling me about Phil, your pal from SHIELD? The one who died in the invasion? Well…turns out he…wasn’t quite as dead as everybody thought?”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times with nothing coming out, and then her brows knit and she stomped past me—and Tony, who was waving his hands and going “Pep, hey Pep, slow down honey” and being about as ineffectual as I had ever seen him be—and into the living room. “Philip Coulson, how _dare_ you!” she yelled. The team backed off, but when she pulled a shoe off and brandished it threateningly, Steve moved into position and looked ready to pick her up and bodily remove her, until she let out a small sob and threw her arms around the startled agent’s neck. 

This was, naturally, all happening about the time the pizza showed up. Thank heavens for my SI platinum card. “Never a dull moment when you live with the Avengers, huh Pep?” I asked while I drafted Thor to pass plates and napkins around. Pepper had recovered herself by then, so she just rolled her eyes and informed Phil she expected a full explanation, and yes, she had the same clearance Tony had, so no, he didn’t have to dance around her. 

She got it, pretty much, while all those pizzas vanished. I say ‘pretty much’ because Phil went lightly on details in much of his own story; some he probably didn’t feel comfortable sharing, and he freely said he didn’t remember parts. That was probably a good thing, since Maria had said the experimental procedure that saved his life was not a pleasant one. No wonder Fury had shipped him off to a tropical island to recuperate; likely as not, he felt he owed the poor man that much. In recounting what had happened to them since the fall of SHIELD, the team avoided some things as well, like the whole mess involving Bucky Barnes and Tony’s parents; as truly as they trusted Phil, I supposed they did not want to put him in the position of having to choose between them and the agency he was clearly working hard to rebuild and keep on the down-low. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil happily adjusts to the changes in the Avengers. The team discusses Chrissy's idea and sets parameters, and the 60 Minutes crew arrives!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Thanks again for reading and commenting; I larb you all. :)
> 
> In reply to a couple of messages: I do have my time line planned through the period of Endgame, and from what I'm hearing so far, the Wordsmith verse's version is going to be both similar and different, like all that has gone before. I intend to complete the series no matter how canon turns out. However, I just landed a really cool freelance writing gig, so updates may be a little bit slower--no slower than a chapter a week, I hope, and hopefully sooner. 
> 
> (funny story: I had to write a sample essay as part of my job application, on one of three topics offered. As soon as I saw that one option was 'the pros and cons of governmental oversight of artificial intelligence', I cackled, sat down and channeled Chrissy. Seriously, I used some of the bits I've already written for the discussion of the Accords in the next story (Civility), just tweaked to apply to AI instead of superheroes. And the hiring manager loved it! hehe)

After eating, the conversation lightened. Phil shared tales of a few of his wilder missions for SHIELD (the one about the alien cat that ate bad guys made me silently resolve to give strays a wide berth and a side-eye henceforth), and the Avengers reciprocated in kind. “I have to admit,” Phil mused from his armchair, “I don’t think I could have ever imagined the gang of misfits that Dr. Banner there called a—ticking time bomb, wasn’t it?—would end up working so smoothly together, much less living under the same roof without killing each other.”

I was sitting on the floor in front of the big couch, with superheroes sprawled in various positions of relaxation and digestion all over the room. It was mildly surprising, then, when the voice that replied to him was Pepper’s from behind me. “They learned to communicate.” I tipped my head back far enough to see her fond smile. “From the outside looking in, so to speak, that’s what’s changed the most. They learned to talk to each other, and listen to each other.”

“And be listened to,” I added. “That’s the hardest skill of all for some people, to get that their words and feelings are gonna be heard and respected. But, yeah. Pep and I both straddle the fence, in a manner of speaking. We’re just far enough away that we can see things sometimes that they’re too close to see.”

A soft scoffing sound came from behind me; this time it was Tony, spread out on the couch with his head in Pepper’s lap and his sock feet in Clint’s. “I still maintain it’s the killer wi-fi. And Chrissy’s cooking.” He tugged at my ponytail, then poked Clint with his toe. “I know _you_ only stayed for the shooting range, Legolas.”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely,” Clint deadpanned. He dug his knuckles into Tony’s arch and elicited a happy groan.

“I’m giving you an hour to stop that, before I elope with you. No, wait, Potts and Laura might team up. Hunt us down and kill us in the most unpleasant way imaginable. Never mind.”

“Bold of you to assume Laura and I haven’t already teamed up,” Pepper returned calmly.

“Maybe you’d consider group marriage, Pep, light of my life?...damn, Barton, seriously, you got a fetish or what? Where the hell did a spy learn to massage feet like that?”

“The circus, for starters. I got drafted to help the acrobats and aerialists. Then later, Nat’s got those weird-ass ballet feet, and I had to keep her in functioning shape to keep my butt alive.“ Lounging in a big wing chair with Bruce sitting on the floor before her, Nat’s glare was far lazier than usual; it was so nice to see her loose and at ease. “Got at least one of my kids started by rubbing Laura’s feet. Then on one assignment, I had to go undercover as an aesthetician, so I figured I might as well get the training—didn’t take long, and I already knew my way around makeup, because circus.”

“Wait.” I sat up straight and turned to him. “You can do facials, and mani-pedis and all?”

Clint gave an expansive shrug with a smug little grin. “Got the certificate and everything. Doesn’t have my name on it, obviously, but it’s still mine.”

I gaped. “I call dibs. No, wait, I call collective dibs for the entire rooftop drinking circle. Spa day!” Pepper nodded vigorously.

“Hey,” Tony complained and kicked his feet a little. “Back to work, Merida. Stop distracting my aesthetician, cornbread.” Clint hit something really good right about then and whatever else Tony was about to say dissolved into a typically dramatic moan. Pepper covered her face, her shoulders shaking with laughter. 

“Get a room, you two,” Steve jibed.

Tony casually flipped him off. “You’re just jealous I’m the team pet.”

“Now, Stark, you and Rogers—“ Phil inquired. “If I were a betting man, I would have laid money that you two would be more likely to kill each other than to be good teammates.”

“We probably could have,” Steve conceded. “Killed each other, I mean; until we uncovered HYDRA’s intent to put us at odds from the start, to doom the Avengers.”

“Then of course, we had to be friends, just out of spite,” Tony chimed in. “And you know how good I am at doing spite, Agent.”

Steve chuckled. “Actually, once we got that out of the way, we…found out we had a lot more in common than we thought.” He did not say what, and Phil, bless him, did not ask.

Tony lifted his head from Pepper’s lap. Steve gave him a thumbs-up, and Tony returned a leisurely little salute. “Cap’s the boss,” he said. “I just make everybody look good.”

“Speaking of everybody looking good,” I offered in the lull, “some things have been coming up while you all were gone, and I’ve got an idea to address them. I think Phil ought to be here and hear about it, since the Avengers are still kinda-sorta-affiliated with SHIELD.” With that, I laid out my concerns about public perceptions of the team, how I wanted to keep them in our hands as much as possible, and my big idea for building on the team’s positive image with as close to a full-group long-form interview as they could handle. “We’ve done great with social media, charitable endeavors, individual public appearances and so forth, and I don’t intend to let people start demanding more access than any of y’all want to allow. Period. Paragraph. It’s—I really think if folks could see y’all like this, just a little bit," I spread my hands to take in the room, "it would do more than all the words I can serve up.”

“Picture’s worth a thousand words,” Steve said reflectively after a minute of general quiet. “I can buy that. Not fond of reporters in my face, present company excluded,” he teased with a grin at me, “but to support the team…yeah. I’m in.”

“Me too,” Tony added. “Somebody’s got to keep Cap from inciting revolution.”

With Tony in, Bruce was less hesitant to agree, and when I delivered Laura’s opinion, Clint signed on, if it could be done before his paternity leave. He actually was mumbling about retiring from the spy game altogether; the team would miss him, but I could not blame him. Nat decided she had to take part, mostly to ride herd on Clint, and Thor was as usual eager to try anything new if he was available—he intended to take off soon on a mission he declined to mention. “Forgive me, Son of Coul, but until I gather more knowledge, I dare not trouble you unnecessarily.”

Phil just nodded, and listened quietly while we started making plans. Lists were made of places where filming would be allowed and places it wouldn’t, topics open to discussion and those off-limits for each team member. I got a flash of inspiration and even asked JARVIS if he would be willing to talk to the correspondent, and the AI readily assented. Bruce and I scheduled a huddle to determine how to address the Hulk, should he decide to join in. I made a fact sheet of bullet points for reference (mine, the team’s, and the film crew), and a master list, with input from the team, of ground rules to present to the producers before any consent was finalized.

When Tony started to pretend-snore loudly, we took that as our cue to break up the impromptu strategy session. Everyone seemed to hate to see Phil leave, and Pepper even offered him a guest bedroom if he wanted to stay over. He politely declined, and folks began to disperse. “I see one reason the team has come together so well,” he told me as I walked with him to the elevator. 

“Do tell?” I inquired.

“Learning to communicate effectively is easier when a master communicator is your teacher.” He tapped a pointing finger lightly against my chest. “You, Miss Everhart, may claim a share of the credit for the Avengers’ success.”

I blushed and opened my mouth to argue—but why, really? I knew my job, I did it well, I cared very deeply for the friends I worked with, and Phil’s years of experience with people was not something to sniff at. So I settled for a thank you.

The network agreed to the team’s prerequisites, and within a few days, a squadron of camerafolk arrived at the tower. I had warned them they probably would not get exciting footage of mad scientists (other than ours) or time-traveling giant sloths. That said, of course, I still worried. _Watch Tony open some damn portal in the middle of his workshop and let a horde of vampire rabbits or a couple of alt-universe Tonys loose in here_ , I thought. 

Thankfully, no blood-sucking bunnies appeared, and the most excitement we got was Steve getting so nervous about the film crew that he burned a batch of pancakes. It wasn’t even the crew’s fault; I had counseled them to find a spot and stay in it, as much as they could, and not disrupt the team, and to be honest Steve did get distracted and burn the pancakes at least once every couple of weeks. Clint challenged Tony to arm-wrestle for the last coffee in the pot, Nat whipped up some of her famous scrambled eggs with caviar, and Pepper wandered through and snagged a Pop-Tart on her way downstairs. (It was Avengers business, she had declared the night before, so she was staying far away. “If CBS wants to interview the CEO of SI, they can afford to send another crew. I’m not giving them a twofer.”)

Thor, as I halfway expected, was absent, beginning his search for more information on the mysterious Infinity Stones he had alluded to, but he had promised to do his best to return for the interview; it was another intriguing human custom he had yet to experience. Vision, currently holding the only stone we knew of, was making himself scarce when strangers were around (strangers to him, anyway, the reason he hadn’t appeared during Phil’s visit). Bruce stumbled in late in the meal, dumped half a shaker of curry blend on a pile of eggs and sucked them down in record time, prompting Tony to verbally review his Heimlich technique. The morning, in other words, was a perfectly normal one. From the reactions of the camera operators and sound techs, though, you would have thought they had never seen a group of roommates eat breakfast.

After the meal, the team split up. I could only ride herd on one camera team at a time, so I had to trust Tony to not create a scene when he headed down to join Pep in a meeting. Clint vanished, either to his building or into the vents, heaven (and JARVIS) only knew which. Nat settled for some down time, and managed to look thoroughly intimidating while knitting a baby sweater for Laura’s incoming. Steve beat up a couple of extra-strength punching bags, then sat in the library and sketched some memories of New York in the 40s, being as wholesome as freshly baked bread. I managed to keep my composure, until the correspondent, Marcus Tate, arrived and attempted to interview JARVIS, who seemed dead set on channeling every bit of the dry wit he had learned from Tony and utterly unnerving his questioner.

“Is…it always like that?” Tate asked, looking a little dry-mouthed.

“It?” I played innocent. “JARVIS is a he, I thought you picked up on his vocal timbre. And yes, he is generally that snarky, unless a life or death situation is brewing.”

“No, I meant…well, never mind.” I knew exactly what he meant; he was trying to haul himself out of the uncanny valley. Honestly, he did a pretty good job of regaining his aplomb while his crew set up on the common floor for the team interview. I had vetted him and talked with him at some length before giving final approval; judging from his history, the seasoned African-American reporter should be an even-handed interviewer, assertive but not antagonistic, somebody who could handle the Avengers without pissing people off.

The Avengers assembled, in civvies, looking more nervous than when they rode out to take on alien big cats or flying mad bombers. The crew bustled around, arranging them for a full-screen shot, fussing with hair and makeup. Clint, Thor and Steve sat on a couch, and Tony, Bruce and Nat on tall stools behind them. I took up a perch behind the lead camera operator, mostly as moral support, and gave out grins and thumbs-ups as they began.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers' 60 Minutes interview begins. Clint and Thor are unexpectedly open, and they inspire Tony to turn a potential disaster into a breathtaking moment of honesty.

Tate started with some casual questions, asking how they wanted to be seen by the public, especially by children, and led from that to ask about their childhoods. That, surprisingly, made every familiar face relax a bit; they all had backstories we had carefully crafted for public consumption. It wasn’t for purposes of deception, but it was nobody’s business how they grew up. Natasha gave her usual brief spiel about growing up in an orphanage and sounded suitably apologetic about not remembering much. Clint went to the other extreme, full of jokes and tales about being a circus brat, and then shocked me when he showed off his hearing aids. Tate was surprised too. “It doesn’t seem you’d want people to know a superhero had a disability,” he said.

“Not a disability if you don’t let it disable you,” Clint returned. “Like Tony says, it’s a design feature, not a flaw. Seriously! I think it helped me learn to do what I do. It taught me concentration; I had to pay attention to what people were saying, and learn to read their movements. I figure, if some kid’s out there thinking they’ve got no chance ‘cause they’re different, maybe if they see this they’ll think again. Not that I’m exactly a sterling role model, but, y’know, any port in a storm.”

“Looks like you’ve done fine,” Tate smiled. “And you have a remarkably wide range of interests. You were talking shop with our makeup guy earlier—he says you have your license! That’s fascinating, though I guess not quite on a par with—how may PhD’s do Doctors Banner and Stark have?”

That was an unwise statement. I felt like a safari guide trying to keep the lions off a hapless tourist, as Bruce and Tony proceeded to all but eat their questioner alive. “We’re very proud of our teammates!” Bruce declared. “If we all had the same skill set, what point would there be in being a team? C’mon!”

Tate backtracked and apologized, and actually sounded pretty sincere. Of course, he then used the fact that he’d finally gotten Bruce to speak up, to ask about _his_ childhood. Bruce blew it off as relatively normal. When the inevitable questions about the Hulk came up, Nat stepped in as Bruce stammered. “The Hulk is not as angry as he used to be, or that’s what I see from the outside looking in,” she said with a gentle look at him. “He emerges sometimes now when he’s concerned about one of us, when he’s startled or afraid. He’s learning tactics, too, not just smashing.”

“I’ve got some video here that was shot by a bystander in South Africa recently.” Tate pulled out a tablet and I tensed, wishing I could slap it out of his hand.

Nat and Tony both shot me worried glances, but it was nothing I had been informed about or anticipated. I swept the film crew with a look, then said in a stage whisper, “I trust you are all ready to move quickly, if whatever is on that screen upsets Hulk sufficiently.”

Nobody freaked. In fact, Tate’s assistant grinned. “Give us some credit, wouldya?”

My apprehension broke when Steve chuckled. The Avengers gathered around, looking and laughing and pointing, except Bruce who was blushing furiously. Tate reclaimed his iPad (after Tony grumbled he would’ve been happy to provide them with StarkTabs) and turned it toward me, to see my wish granted—pretty good quality video of Hulk and Hulkbuster walking hand in hand. I made a noise more commonly associated with watching cute cat videos, and apologized to the assistant for underestimating them. “Now,” a clearly amused Tate asked, “could you tell us how that touching scene came about?”

Tony jumped in and explained the suit’s purpose and how he and Hulk had trained together with it. “There was some missed communication on the ground between us and some local support crew—they thought I’d gotten myself hurt, and when Bruce heard that, apparently the big guy decided he had to come to my rescue. Which, hey, who wouldn’t appreciate that?” He grinned and socked Bruce’s shoulder lightly, knowing he’d bought Bruce enough time to regain his equilibrium. 

“We’ll get this on screen when we edit this, so the audience can see the video too,” Tate said.

From there he moved to Steve, who talked a bit more about his past and its contrast with the present. “Lot of great things about today. The internet, so helpful. No polio is good. Also, no measles, mumps, chicken pox, flu—mostly—get your kids their shots, people, for cryin’ out loud, you don’t realize what you’ve got. I do, because I was around when we didn’t have those advances.” Tony rolled his eyes a bit, but really, who (of us, anyway) didn’t expect Steve to wade into at least one controversy when he opened his mouth?

Then it was Thor’s turn. I could tell he was working hard to use his indoor voice, but he had to declaim a few times. Tate looked a bit bewildered, but covered it well. This big guy talking about growing up a prince on another world, but who spoke of his love for the striving toward freedom and equality that he saw on Earth, could be a bit bewildering, if you didn’t know him the way we did. “This is probably a sensitive subject,” Tate ventured, “but your brother was reportedly involved in the alien attack on New York in 2012. How did you feel about that then, and how do you feel now?”

Great. If it had been me on the receiving end, I could have talked around it and basically gotten out with a fancy ‘no comment’. Thor wasn’t going to do that. “The leader of the Chitauri invasion was not the brother that I knew. He was not the brother I grew up with. I returned him to Asgard for punishment, but there has always been a misgiving in my mind, a sense of something amiss. After some research, it came to my attention that an outside force might have been pressuring him, and that his actions were not entirely his own. I am scouring the universe for more information, and plan to return home very soon to attempt to question Loki himself.” He stretched out his broad arms. “The city of New York has a heart bigger than some planets,” he went on, warming to the subject. “If I am correct, perhaps one day, you may open it to my brother, and he may return and seek to make amends. Until then, I am working with my father and the royal council of Asgard, to finalize a formal alliance between us and Earth. I cannot defend this fair world alone. We, the Avengers, as mighty as my comrades here are, cannot do it alone. We know there are other threats, and we must stand together. I am taking the lead, since Earth is new-come to space and little known. Although!” He brightened. “I can report there is one citizen of this world who has already earned some fame among the word-spreaders of other planets.” He turned his head and smiled, with great pride, at Tony. “The name of Anthony Stark is spoken with awe already on many worlds, for his courage and daring. Few indeed can claim to have taken on a Chitauri mothership singlehanded and prevailed.”

Tony had relaxed, listening to Steve and Thor, after sticking up for Clint and smoothing over Bruce’s brief turmoil; but when the topic of the invasion had arisen, the fake smile popped back up. My heart sank when I saw his hand start to shake. Thor didn’t realize what he had said or what reaction it might get, but I did, and I had to do something fast. “Excuse me, Mr. Tate?” I spoke up. “Sorry to interrupt; guess you’ll have to fix that in the editing bay too, huh? Tony? Hey, how’s your blood sugar?” In a quick aside, I added to the correspondent, “It drops every now and then. I’ve known him long enough I can spot it before he does sometimes.”

For a beat, everybody looked thoroughly puzzled, since they all knew Tony didn't have any trouble with blood sugar—everybody except Bruce. God bless him, he jumped in with both feet instantly. “Yeah, uh, could we take five? Stand and stretch? I’m old, I don’t want to get a blood clot from sitting too long.”

“I’m older than you are,” Steve retorted, Thor averred his own seniority, and a playful verbal shoving match ensued. It was perfect for the cameras, exactly the sort of everyday regular-person thing I had hoped the crew would capture, and I couldn’t enjoy it at all. “Want some juice?” I said quickly, taking Tony by the arm. “We’ve got cranberry, orange, pineapple I think—oh heck, come on into the kitchen with me and decide for yourself, I’m not your babysitter.” I all but hauled him through the swinging doors into the kitchen, spun and threw my arms around him. “Are you okay? Do I need to run upstairs and get your medication?”

A few fine tremors ran through his body, but it wasn’t as bad as I had feared. “No, I’m okay,” he said in a similarly low voice, and steady, thankfully. 

“Whew, good.” I stepped back. “I just didn’t want you going into a full-on panic attack out there in front of them.”

“I know, cornbread, I know, thanks. Although now, you know they’re probably gonna start asking about my health, if I’m diabetic, if I’m safe to be out there fighting, yada yada.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I—I went with my gut, just wanting to help you. I hope I haven’t screwed everything up worse.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re always trying to help me. Remember my big reveal?” I groaned and he chuckled softly. “You helped that day, you set me up without even knowing where I was going. And just now—you bought me a little time and space to think, and I, I think I’ve got something. I’ve got an idea. Where’s that juice? No sense in wasting this trip.” Of course, being Tony, he just pulled the jug of OJ out of the fridge and started to slug straight from it, before I smacked him and handed him a cup. He took a deep breath, tilted his head to and fro to crack his neck, and squared his shoulders. “Chrissy?” he said on our way back out. “That day I came out as Iron Man, remember what I told you afterwards? I think I need to put my money where my mouth is again, right now.”

He strode through the door, the Tony-Fuckin-Stark confidence pouring off him. I followed more slowly, thinking. He had said a lot of things that morning in Malibu, but one statement stood out in my mind. _“The honesty has to start somewhere…and I figured Hell, might as well start with me”_.

The rest of the team had reassembled. To the film crew, I imagined they looked as cool as ever, but to my practiced eye, they were visibly tight. They knew Tony had anxiety, but I wasn’t sure he’d ever told them that being reminded of their epic battle here in this city could often trigger an attack. That was what he meant, I suspected; after this was done, he would sit them down and tell them. Thor would be apologetic, Tony would reassure him that all was well, and they would move on.

That...was not what happened. 

Tate was a nice enough guy, but he was a reporter. Nobody had to tell me that the curiosity was eating him from within, or that the drive to satisfy it was well-nigh irresistible. He barely waited until Tony sat back down, gently fending off concerned looks all around, and the camera rolled again, before he started to fire questions. “So, Mr. Stark, it’s a bit surprising, since you basically grew up in front of the press, that nobody’s ever reported your having this particular medical issue. Is that something that impacts your actions as Iron Man, and how do you—“

“I don’t,” Tony cut him off, though not in a nasty way, more like there was something he had to say before he lost his nerve, and my stomach clenched as I realized he had meant exactly, exactly what he had said a moment before. He was going to do what he’d done years ago, again. “Christine told a small fib, there. My blood sugar’s fine, always has been. She has known me longer than anybody else here, and she did see a sign and was trying to cover for me, and I thank her for being my friend—our friend, but especially mine.” He gave a nervous little sniff, but then smiled a bit, right at me, before he continued. “The truth is…I have anxiety. It’s probably been simmering for a long time, but it really broke loose after the—the Chitauri. When I took the missile out the wormhole and saw the size of the fleet of spaceships coming at us…I’m a mechanic, basically. I fix things. That’s what I do, it’s what I’m good at, and for the first time I was seeing something not only too big for me to fix but too big for me to even imagine fixing.” Tony held up a hand to forestall more questions. “It took me a while to admit what was going on, nobody likes to admit they need help, and the ‘great Tony Stark’, how could I have anxiety, how could I need that kind of help? That was a mistake in my thinking, which eventually, with the help of the people I care about, I got straight.”

From behind me, the elevator pinged. I ignored it; I could not look away, until a hand landed on my arm. “JARVIS said something was wrong with Tony,” Pepper barely breathed in my ear. “What—“

I shook my head. “Nothing’s wrong.” I put my hand over hers and squeezed, fighting back tears as Tony described his panic attacks and triggers, laying what he had often called his dirty little secret bare for the whole world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect this to happen either. Need to add the 'Tony Stark Does What He Wants' tag, I think. <3
> 
> Part of Steve's talk was, of course, the same things he says to Sam when they first meet in TWS.
> 
> The Russos say Thanos first learned Tony's identity after Avengers 1. Think about it, from the perspective of the rest of the galaxy: a huge Chitauri fleet attacks this backwater planet, which sends ONE warrior out, who destroys the entire fleet. If I were Thanos, that one warrior is somebody I would want to know more about. (and since Captain Marvel, I headcanon there might be some Skrull living quietly here, who stay in touch with their kin elsewhere, and who would certainly have seen news coverage and know who Tony Stark/Iron Man is. Gossip, y'all, it gets around.)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's unexpected revelation marks a turning point in the team interview. The massive public reaction gives Chrissy an even fuller plate of work, but she finds time to keep her promise to the Maximoff twins, and starts to clear up the false narrative HYDRA forced on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endgame is coming! No matter how it goes, remember it is only one part of the multiverse. This is MY part of said multiverse, and I promise you it is a safe place for your heart, whatever characters you love and whatever may happen to them on a movie screen.

Thor turned in his seat with a look of horror. “Friend Anthony, I had no idea. Can you possibly forgive—“

“Don’t start, point break. You didn’t do anything. It’s—kinda nice to hear I’m notorious beyond earth by now.” Tony let out a dry chuckle. “But, yeah, it’s okay that this came up. It’s good, really. It’s good for people to know that we get affected too by what we do. We’re not marble statues, towers of strength. We’re strong, yeah, this bunch, although they’re all probably stronger than I am.”

A chorus of objections made both the interviewer and subject start in surprise. Nat reached across Bruce and took Tony’s hand. “Don’t listen to him,” she told Tate.

Steve chimed in, “I’ve read articles that said the Avengers are fearless. Well, having been in actual combat in a more—primitive, maybe?—time, I can tell you, anybody who calls themselves fearless is either lying or stupid. Both, maybe.” Bruce’s hand settled on Tony’s shoulder as they all listened. “Being afraid, and still doing what needs to be done, that’s real bravery. Tony Stark is one of the bravest men I’ve ever known, and I hope you got that on film, ‘cause if not, just tell me and I will say it again. We’re each strong, yes, but we’re strongest when we’re together.”

For a moment, Tony seemed almost dumbfounded. “Somebody will see this,” he said at last, “and think Iron Man is a wimp. Guess what, buddy, I don’t care. Far worse has been said and thought about me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that. But if somebody sees this and thinks ‘hey, Iron Man’s scared sometimes, but he has people that care about him’—who knows why, by the way, because I definitely don’t deserve any of you—“ More protests sounded, Clint punctuating his by reaching around to land a no-look smack on Tony’s knee. Tony reciprocated with one to the back of Clint’s head. “He went and got somebody to help him, and he’s taking it one day at a time. Maybe then they think ‘hey, I can do that too’ and they get help, and they start to move forward. If by saying something about this, I can, like Barton said, let somebody know they have a chance, they aren’t a hopeless case, I figure that’s as--as good, as decent, a thing for me to do as kicking a giant mutant sloth out of its perch on the goalposts at the Meadowlands.”

The big common room was completely silent, for a few beats that felt a whole lot longer. “I’ve been a working journalist for a pretty good while,” Tate finally said, “and I believe that is the most courageous thing anybody I’ve interviewed has ever said in front of a camera.”

“Or the dumbest,” Tony replied, a faint grin making its way back onto his face.

“Nope,” Tate said firmly. “Definitely the bravest. Whew. Anybody for another quick break? I sure could use one, now.”

Finally able to tear my eyes from the scene, I blinked them clear and turned to the friend who still had a death grip on my arm. “Don’t yell at him, Pep. It was my fault, I—“ I stopped when I saw a couple of tears streaking Pepper’s makeup. She just shook her head, without a word, patted my arm, then made a beeline for Tony. She was going to have to wait a second, I noted, because Steve had gotten to him first and caught him in a hug so unstinting Tony had to go up on his toes while Steve cupped the back of his head. Pepper looked more pleased than distressed.

“That…was not expected.” Tate approached me. I just shrugged and smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to find the Avengers so closely-knit, or so emotional. You knew? About Stark’s anxiety?”

“I did. As he said, I’ve known him longer than anybody else in this room except Ms. Potts. Although having worked with the whole team for a few years now, I’m starting to be able to pick up subtle tells from all of them, if they’re stressing or sitting on something, or whatever.”

The correspondent nodded thoughtfully, then clapped his hands and called, “Avengers re-assemble?” The heap of superheroes enveloping Tony reluctantly dispersed back to their respective seats. Pepper had finally gotten hold of her man, but she slipped away, passed me with a pat on the shoulder and hit the elevator before anybody could corner her about interviews. Tony looked much calmer, traded some quiet quip with Bruce and bumped shoulders before settling down. In fact, with the dense emotions of earlier dissipated, the whole team seemed more relaxed. “Okay, so, what do you see ahead for the Avengers?” Tate asked them.

Tony began to talk about their plans to convert an old SI facility upstate into a full training center and residence. “We need more Avengers, and we’re vetting some folks right now, expanding our recruitment into all corners of the world. Some of us are getting too old for this game, too, and when I retire I might throw the rest of you clowns out. It is my tower, after all.”

“You’re fulla shit,” Clint mumbled.

“Language,” Steve mock-chided. “This is going on television.”

“You can say shit on tv, grandpa,” Clint countered.

“Only on cable. See, I’m not totally ignorant of your newfangled ways.”

“Steve’s totally the team dad,” Bruce nodded.

“Does that make Tony the team mom?” Nat inquired. “He did threaten to send Clint and me to bed without any supper the other night.”

“Oh thanks!” Tony yelled. “Now I get to explain _that_ to Potts. No, honey, I am not outing Hawkeye and Black Widow’s nonexistent secret affair, and more importantly I am not cheating on you with Captain America!”

The assistant standing beside me was openly giggling, and I let out a small contented sigh. This was exactly the quality material I had hoped for, that the public could get a glimpse of the crazy, lovable, real people behind the heroic fronts.

Tate, God love him, wrenched the train back onto the tracks after a few moments. “Are some of you seriously thinking about retirement?”

“Yep!” Tony said. “Not that I don’t love this bunch of maniacs, but, yeah, I’m the token squishy baseline human and I’m getting tired. Thinking about buying Potts an alpaca farm, or a pomegranate orchard or something suitably esoteric.”

“I’m gonna move to eastern Europe and open a spa,” Clint deadpanned. “Something so exclusive nobody can find it, so I’m never interrupted.”

“I’ll find you,” Nat assured him.

“We’ll follow her,” Steve added. “You owe me a pedicure.”

After a little more byplay, Tate wrapped up the session with a big grin on his face. “Miss Everhart,” he said while his crew packed up, “thank you for everything you did to set this up. This is a side of these people the world hasn’t yet seen, and I think the thirst for this kind of candor is very real.”

It was, and then some. Ratings for the interview blew the roof off even 60 Minutes’ normally solid numbers; reviews and social media comments were overwhelmingly positive, and I found myself fielding an explosion of requests and recognitions for all the Avengers from around the world. A side comment Nat had made about training brought pleas from several women’s health magazines and websites for cover-story interviews about everything from diet and exercise to being the only woman in the workplace. The American Speech, Language and Hearing Association nominated Clint for their Annie Glenn Award for making a positive impact on the lives of people with communication issues (he hoped he lost, he complained privately to me, otherwise he’d have to go buy a new suit and show up at their convention and make some half-assed speech). 

On Twitter, a poster with anxiety started the hashtag #StrongLikeIronMan; it trended for days thereafter, and Tony got an avalanche of appeals to speak to groups of mental health professionals and persons dealing with illnesses. We vetted them, and he accepted a few. As great as it was to watch my friends save the world, I swear, it was small change next to the pride I felt the day Tony walked onto a stage in front of the national convention of the largest grassroots mental health group in North America and said, “Hi, everybody. I’m Tony, and I have anxiety.”

Needless to say, I was chasing my tail for a good long while. I had not, however, forgotten my promise to the Maximoff twins, and as soon as I could wangle an afternoon free, I headed for the carefully nondescript undercover apartment where they were staying under SHIELD’s watchful eye—too watchful, as I got an earful of as soon as I got there.

“We must be freed soon, or I may well lose all my reason!” Pietro moaned dramatically.

“You had reason?” Wanda sniped in typical sibling fashion as they saw me inside and to a chair in the living room of the neat little apartment.

Her brother flopped across the nearby sofa. “I have flirted with every agent they have, I think. If I have to start around again, they will all have heard my best lines already.”

“He thinks he has ‘best lines’,” Wanda confided, stepping into the small kitchen and returning with glass cups of fragrant steaming tea in little metal holders. 

“Most men do,” I agreed. “Thank you for the tea. Now, other than your brother and his severe case of cabin fever, how are you two doing?” 

After I quickly defined cabin fever, Wanda said, “We are doing well. We have been talking with the SHIELD agents, telling them all we can remember of HYDRA. They have been professional, but considerate. And we have seen more than these walls! Clint comes to visit us, and sometimes—“ she leaned forward and finished in a conspiratorial whisper, “he takes us to the grocer, or the ice cream shop down the street. I enjoy my cone, and Pietro has new people to flirt with. Vision visits as well, although he does not seem to understand the use of a door; he keeps coming through the wall.”

“We’ve noticed that too. Tony’s working with him on it. His past self was accustomed to moving at the speed of thought, more or less, so it’s going to take time, but he’s trying,” I told them. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come over sooner, but since the Avengers did their interview on television, I’ve been extremely busy.”

“We saw that.” Pietro sat up and finally grabbed for the tea Wanda had set on a low table for him. “They seem so real. Like regular people.”

“Oh, they are. They have their own hopes and fears and griefs, like any of us do,” I nodded. “Like you two have. Do you mind telling me a little about your pasts first? I know what the files SHIELD made up about you say, but it’s always better to hear facts from those who lived them.”

The story they told was heartbreaking, how at age ten their parents were killed by a bombing during one of Sokovia’s constant sectarian clashes, and they themselves were trapped for days in the remains of their family apartment, blocked in by an unexploded shell—a shell with Stark Industries’ logo on it. “Oh, Lord,” I breathed. “No wonder you hated the name so. You had no way of knowing Tony had nothing to do with it. And of course, HYDRA was going to make damn sure you never knew, if they could. They would do anything to get what they wanted, including turning your anger and hurt into weapons for them to use. I am so sorry, for both of you. SHIELD said you are Jewish so I say ‘may your parents’ memory be for a blessing’, is that right?”

Wanda blinked. “Yes, yes it is, and thank you. But how can that be? How could the weapon bear the Stark name, and Stark not bear the blame?”

I took another sip of my tea and set it down. “That is a long story, but it’s the story I came to tell to you, if you will hear it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Annie Glenn Award is a real thing, and I have no doubt that ASHA would nominate Clint for it!
> 
> And yeah, once again, an interaction between Steve and Tony is based on a real life one between Evans & Downey. That famous hug... <3
> 
> ETA to link to gifs of said hug: https://imissyourbattlecries.tumblr.com/post/143495128957/cap-and-i-hugged-it-out
> 
> there's a link underneath the gifs to the original video too!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrissy corrects the lies Wanda and Pietro had been led to believe, and the twins take a brave step to start making amends for their past actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I saw Endgame last night. It was much better than I expected, though I'm salty about some of what I consider mischaracterizations and disappointed that other characters didn't (IMHO) get their due. That said, yeah, overall, it was good. (I will say one thing, and I think it's neither spoilery nor surprising; RDJ DESERVES ALL THE AWARDS for his performance in it, so help me God. OS-CAR, OS-CAR, OS-CAR.) Anyway, there will be no spoilers up in here, although if anybody wants to talk about it I'm on tumblr, hit me up! :)
> 
> One thing that honestly excited me as I watched was how easily a lot of Endgame is going to be to adapt for the Wordsmith verse! Like, seriously, I have had a good chunk of that time period sketched out for months, and a bunch of things that happen in the film fit frighteningly well into it. I'm not going to have to throw out much of anything, just work stuff into my already existing storyline. I swear, if it weren't for knowing you wouldn't understand half of it (because stuff coming up in the rest of this story, and in Civility and Fireblade, the next two, are vital) I'd write the last story right now. As it is, I hope to spend much of this weekend banging out as much fic as I can!)

I launched in, and minced no words in telling about the murder of Tony’s parents by HYDRA, with the complicity of Howard Stark’s business partner. As I explained how Obadiah Stane had manipulated Tony’s grief to keep the boy under his control, then sent him into a war zone in hopes he would never return alive, while he sold Stark weapons to the highest bidder regardless of their intent, the two sets of eyes focused on me grew bigger and bigger. I told them, as I had with others, what I felt was mine to tell of Tony's story, and no more. When they asked for proof, I showed them the press conference after Tony’s return from Afghanistan, recounted how Tony’s change of heart about making weaponry had hardened Stane’s resolve to put a permanent end to the risk the last Stark posed to his plots, and then handed them my StarkTab again so they could see highlights of news reports of Stane’s untimely demise and the subsequent exposure of his crimes.

“The law didn’t hold Tony accountable," I told them, "but he’s never denied that the ultimate responsibility is his. He’s searched the world to find everything Stane broke in his name, and he’s done all in his power, and still does, with his business and as Iron Man too, to mend them. HYDRA kept that from you too, obviously. Now that I think about it, they were doing to you what Stane did to Tony, in a way; using your own emotions against you, to hold you under their thumbs while they did what they would.”

“Emotions, so strong,” Wanda mused. “When we watched the television show, with the Avengers, Stark’s emotions were—so raw. I don’t believe any actor could be so convincing. And…on one of his visits, Vision told me about that hammer that Thor bears, that only a worthy person can lift it. Vision did; and Stark made him, so…perhaps Stark is not the person we thought we hated, all these years.” Pietro nodded, his earlier flippancy all gone now.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I offered. “I hated Tony before I met him too. Well, I hated what he did, and the person I thought he was. When I met him, and came to know him, I found he was just doing what his father taught him, trying to live up to impossible expectations, until he saw with his own eyes the evils being done in his name. I saw great potential in him, and I prayed he would see he could be more. He did, and he’s spent his life since then working to make up for his past. What you saw the other night, that was a shock even to those of us who know Tony well; that he would open up to strangers about something that has caused him such pain, especially since the vision you caused him to see woke all of that up again.”

“This is infuriating!” Pietro burst out. “The weapon that killed our parents was sold illegally, by a man who dealt with HYDRA, who tried to kill Stark to get him out of his way? And then we threw our lot in with those same snakes?” The look he threw to his sister was ferocious and anguished. “They promised us revenge, for a wrong they helped to create, and kept that truth from us so we would make their enemy ours, and do their, how do you say, dirty work!” Wanda looked stricken. “We must go to him, _sestra_. To all of them, because we did wrong by them all, but especially to Stark. Our parents would never rest if they knew what we had done to someone innocent of our condemnation.”

Wanda seemed hesitant, but the distress on her face said it wasn’t because she disagreed, I thought. My conjecture was confirmed the next moment, when she said quietly, “He will not forgive me, _bratr_. How could he? I forced him to relive the event that makes him afraid, and I gloried in it, in the thought of making him suffer as we had suffered.”

“That may be,” her brother replied stoutly, “but even if he cannot forgive us, we must make the attempt. You know this, Wanda.” Pietro looked toward me, suddenly unsure. “Would—would you speak to him? Would you ask if he will see us?”

“I…I will,” I said slowly. “I believe you two are sorry, and it would be great for you to tell Tony so. Knowing him, it won’t surprise me for him to insist it’s all still his fault, though. He’s bad about that. I know, I got mixed up with one of his enemies and, uh, got hurt, and Tony beat himself up over it.” I had no intention of going into detail about the whole Extremis mess, but they did need to know how Tony still felt such guilt about things he shouldn’t.

“How sad,” Wanda remarked, seeming shaken by the thought that Tony might blame himself even more than she had blamed him. “One would never imagine the famous Iron Man had so soft a heart.”

“He hides it well,” I agreed. “I’ll be honest. I don’t think you two are evil. I think you were torn up by grief. But Tony is one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and I—he means a great deal to me, and you hurt him, terribly.” I met Wanda’s eyes straight on. “I will tell him what we have talked about. Just know that I will never take another’s side against him.”

Pietro didn’t look one bit surprised or put out. “Wanda would do the same for me,” he shrugged, but did not elaborate. I didn’t pursue it; instead I just sipped my tea, asked what kind it was, and ended up talking cooking and recipes with Wanda. Clint, it turned out, had scoped out the neighborhood and found a market that carried Sokovian products, so they could have a taste of home. 

“I’m glad Clint’s been coming over,” I told them. “Hopefully you can start getting out more once SHIELD finishes your debriefing and all; and maybe we can get you two over to the tower, like we talked about, once the rest of the team feels more comfortable—Oh! That reminds me. Wanda, we need to find out more about this—thing—where I can feel your powers. What should we do?”

Wanda looked up sharply, her eyes wide. “You are certain? You trust me with this?”

“Trust has to start somewhere,” I pointed out. 

“Besides,” Pietro said with an elbow to his sister’s side, “if Stark cares for her as she does him, if you harmed her he would probably go on a rampage to make the big green one seem like a kitten.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t argue. Tony did open one almighty big can of whoop-ass on Simon, though I'd always figured that was more a HYDRA thing then a me-specific thing. Wanda lifted one hand, and a crimson plume began to rise and twist from it, like light and smoke all in one, though not pointing at me. The familiar pressure instantly appeared all the same, this time focused on my face, reminding me of a sinus headache. “Calm down, brain,” I said out loud to myself, even though who knew if my brain was even mediating the reaction. “She’s not trying to hurt us.” 

I described the sensation to Wanda, who looked downright baffled. “No one has ever reported such a thing, that I’m aware of, in proximity to my powers.”

“My hands feel funny too,” I noticed. “Warm, almost like they’re sympathizing with yours. Weird.” I turned my back. “Let’s see if I can tell again when you’re doing it if I’m not looking.”

We worked with it for a while, until I called it quits; Wanda insisted she wasn’t tired, but she looked it. “We’ll work on it later,” I said, “when you can get outside and we can really determine my range and all.” As I started to leave, I added, “Next time I come over, we’ll see if we can sneak out to the pizzeria on the next block up. It smelled great.”

“I like pizza,” Pietro agreed. “I think I would like Italian girls, too.” 

Wanda and I rolled our eyes at each other in unison, and I took my leave with a laugh. Maybe this would work out.

As it turned out, of course, I had my theory all backward. Instead of being apprehensive (openly, anyway) about meeting with the Maximoffs, Tony was furious that I had experimented, without backup, with my perception of Wanda’s power. “She could have done anything to you, cornbread, anything!” he yelled, stomping around the workshop.

“And they figured if she did, you’d kill them, and I confess to have taken shameless advantage of that groundless notion, and did nothing to disabuse them of it,” I retorted.

“Good. ‘Cause, really, not so groundless. I mean, I would do my best not to end anybody, but I make no promises.”

He glowered. I grinned, and thought, _if I didn’t worry he’d take it the wrong way and get all discombobulated and uncomfortable again, I would so tell him I loved him._ “Seriously, Tony, one reason I—am so fond of you is, you don’t try to protect me from making my own damn decisions. You bitch about it later, yeah, but I figure you put up with me, you’re entitled to that.”

That made him stop waving his arms, at least. “Huh. Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m a grown-ass woman, and you acknowledge that.”

“Huh,” he said again, and the glare faded into a small, contemplative smile. “So, you think I should hear ‘em out?”

“I think so. They were young, and made bad choices looking for somebody to hold accountable. They lost their whole world, really, and HYDRA made damn sure they never knew who was really responsible. Now they know, and they really seem to want to tell you that they are sorry. I do think it’d be good for you to listen.”

That said, I wasn’t going to let the twins meet with Tony alone. He was still grumpy about my working with Wanda, but he was forced to concede that a reliable detector of her use of her powers would make him feel safer around her. Not that I could do anything if she tried to pull a fast one, other than tackle her, but still, I intended to be there.

I approached Clint about helping me escort the Maximoffs to and from the tower. Nat had been right on the mark about him; though his initial contacts with them had been just because of his immunity to Wanda’s power, he had clearly gotten fond of them. That did not, I found later, stop him from cornering Tony to be certain this meeting was what Tony wanted, or from hissing “If any shit starts, tell J to call me,” before he left the lab where Tony had asked me to bring them.

I took my cross-stitch, just so nobody felt like I was staring at them, and settled at a workbench, giving them enough distance that I wasn’t tempted to eavesdrop. Not that it helped a lot; they all talked louder than I had figured, so I caught much more of the conversation than I anticipated.

“I get it,” Tony said to Wanda, after she and Pietro told their story to him. “I do. You were in pain, just kids, and HYDRA screwed you over. If anybody should understand needing to be forgiven, and needing a second chance, it’s me. I…All I can give you is that, though, for my part. You hurt my friends, and that’s—that’s harder for me to let go of. Me, I’m good with it, I’ll survive, but them…”

 _Typical Tony_ , I thought fondly. _They’ll survive too, you knucklehead._

“We will appeal to them too,” Pietro affirmed. “Our faith demands it. Before we ask forgiveness of God, we must do all we can to make amends to those we wronged.”

Wanda cut her eyes his way with a fond little half-smile. “And here I thought you were never paying attention in Hebrew _schol_.”

“Well, um, I don’t have any say in how that goes down,” Tony said awkwardly. “I'm not a faith kind of guy. But if that’s what you need to hear—yeah. Yeah. I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” Wanda almost whispered, and then laughed a little. “Isn’t it ironic, all these years we thought we were honoring our parents by hating you, and in the end, we did them dishonor—“ Her voice broke and she sniffed hard.

“Hey. Hey, um, don’t do that, please don’t, I’m no good with the feelings thing, especially not where parents or tears or both are involved, uh—Chrissy? Help?“ 

Under other circumstances, I might have let Tony flail another minute or two, just because it’s true entertainment when it happens; but I couldn’t very well leave him in the lurch in an interaction still tense. I put my stitching down and headed over. Wanda’s brother held her in his arms murmuring to her in Sokovian, so I patted her on the back before I gave Tony a big hug. “Epic fail,” he mumbled into my hair. 

“Nope,” I corrected him, letting my accent thicken. “You done good, boy.” 

As I had hoped, it made him smile. “Well, then,” Pietro said brightly from behind me, “if we are no longer enemies, perhaps you will tell me a little about some of this amazing equipment, Stark—Mr. Stark?—“

“Tony’s fine. Sure. Fair warning though, not to blow my own horn, even though I do: it’s pretty advanced stuff. I may get in over your head and not intend to.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that, considering we never went to secondary school.” Wanda nodded in confirmation of her brother’s words, as she turned back toward Tony. His and my mouths fell open pretty much in unison. 

“Wait, you—" Tony sputtered. "Well of course not, fuck if HYDRA would care if you got a high school diploma, in fact a decent education would’ve made you more likely to see through their bullshit. Hell, that’s got to be remedied though. JARVIS, get Agent on the horn—no, on second thought, I promised a tour right now, but later, we are getting you two set up with GED courses at the very least!” He wagged a finger in a downright paternal way. “C'mon, Speedy Gonzales. You in, Sabrina?” he asked Wanda.

“Oh, no, thank you. Technology is Pietro’s fondness, not mine.” Tony gave a little nod and hauled Pietro off to the nearest workstation; I could tell he was making an effort to slow down the usual torrent of happy techno-babble that poured out of his mouth when he got a new and willing ear. ”He does remember my name, does he not? He did not call me by it just now.”

I could not keep from chuckling. “Tony is prone to giving people silly nicknames.” I explained Speedy Gonzales and then added, “Sabrina is a teenage witch from another comic book. I’m sure that was what he was thinking of.”

The girl’s face brightened. “That is good to hear. I like the thought that he accepts our apologies, accepts us, enough to give pet names.”

So did I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Pietro use the Sokovian words for brother and sister when they speak to each other. (it's actually Serbian, but many of the Eastern European languages are close enough that I felt it would serve, in the same way that canon Wakandan derives from languages of the area where it is placed like Xhosa and Zulu...more of that when we get to Wakanda later!)
> 
> I know folks have not been fond of Wanda as we saw her in the films, and I hope you will accept how her character is different in my verse. Having her brother beside her, for one, makes a diff, and the information she gets in this chapter goes a long way toward making her realize how she has messed up and how she needs to start to work to make that right. (see also, Pietro's comments about how the Jewish faith directs its people to seek forgiveness from those they have wronged before they expect God to forgive them) 
> 
> Without spoiling the future, I will say that Wanda and Chrissy becoming friends, Wanda gathering the courage to apologize to Tony, and Tony having the heart to accept her apology, are collectively going to play a huge part, way down the road, in fixing Endgame. :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Pietro meet with Tony, and then the rest of the team, and start to work toward building new lives.

While Pietro excitedly took in the lab, Wanda and I chatted about the Maximoffs’ education (or lack thereof). I started to catch her up on some American culture; my craft projects helped with that, strangely enough, because I was cross-stitching cartoon characters on Christmas ornaments for the team. Wanda was particularly amused by Merida, who I was stitching for Clint, so I had to explain the assorted archers’ nicknames Tony had stuck on him.

“I hope that Stark—Tony—calling me by a witch’s name does not mean he thinks I am evil.” I assured her Sabrina was a good witch. “I wonder…When I reached out to touch his mind, back in the HYDRA stronghold, it—felt different, somehow, not like any other I had sought to influence before. It didn’t even feel like the other Avengers’ minds. When I cause visions, I only see bits of them myself, but his seemed more real, somehow. There was such detail before him, horrible alien creatures in the air, and people lying dead amid ruins, where usually there are only shadows, and scary ghostly forms. I had not thought much about it; I had no reason to, really, but I am wondering now if, instead of planting a manufactured vision, or even accessing his innermost fears, if somehow my magic opened his inner eye. Perhaps I only wakened something that was there already, and he had a true psychic vision of something that may happen.”

The thought made me shudder. “I hope not! It was awful, from what he said.”

“Do you suppose he would let me help? I—I can remove memories, or at least soften and blur them, so he would suffer less from anxiety.”

“I doubt it,” I told her, as kindly as I could, “although you can offer. He probably wouldn’t feel comfortable letting you into his mind, but he might appreciate that you cared enough to ask.”

When the men appeared to be taking a breather, we went over and Wanda explained her suspicions and made her offer of help. I stayed close to Tony, and my instincts about his reaction proved true. “Nope. Not psychic, no magic eight-ball around here, all science, And I, ah, I can’t let you back in the old noggin. Don’t take it personally, or, well, I guess you couldn’t help but take it personally, but—no, I can’t.”

“I understand.” Wanda nodded. “It was wrong of me to force my way in to begin with. Maybe someday you will be able to trust me more, but I know why you could not, now. At least now we can part, if not friends, then not as foes.” 

Tony looked at her hand. Standing almost flush with him, I could feel a small shiver go through him, and my mouth was half open to say—something, I didn’t know what—when he grabbed her small hand in his firm grip. They exchanged smiles that looked equally relieved on both sides. 

The twins visited several times after that, during the process of getting them legally situated as refugees and superheroes. Tony dispatched a brace of his best SI lawyers, experienced in immigration law, to help navigate asylum hearings, and Pietro recounted with much hilarity the befuddled look on the face of the SHIELD agent assigned to their safe house the first day the tutor Tony had hired arrived to start them on high school equivalency tasks. In between all that, I did get a chance to cook with Wanda, Pietro played in Tony’s workshop, and both met with the rest of the team to apologize for their past actions. 

“Your—thing,” Tony said to Wanda suddenly, one day in the lab. (I was still accompanying them when Wanda and Tony were together, officially to practice my sensing every chance I got, unofficially to reassure Tony.) “Your hoodoo. Can I see it? Can anybody see it? Is it visible, or—where does it fall on the energy spectrum, ultraviolet, infrared, cosmic puce? We need to get some research going here! Your other half’s already up for science, Brucie-bear will help us check out his muscle fibers, slow-twitch, fast-twitch, invisible-to-all-machinery twitch—“

Pietro lifted an eyebrow. “I did not volunteer to be your guinea pig,” he said from his slouch on the ragged couch against the wall.

Tony huffed. “I know exactly what you volunteered for, Flash, and I know it has nothing to do with being a cute furry animal. We can probably get our hands on HYDRA’s research, such as it was, but that’s just—squicky. Ew. Plus, no controls, or universal precautions or standards of measurement—they have no clue how to really do science!”

I chuckled. “Ah, snark, insults, and the intense desire to science up everything in sight. Ladies and gentlemen, at last you behold Tony Stark in his true form.”

Wanda showed him her power the same way she had shown me. She and I replicated some of the simple experiments we had done at the safe house to start figuring out my range of sensing, and Tony started taking notes and mumbling and directing Pietro to move gear around so Wanda could move it back and he could measure pounds of force and angles of attack and what have you. It was great, and we ended up keeping them far longer than originally planned, though both twins swore they would much rather be ‘sciencing’ with Tony than hanging around their apartment bored half out of their minds and watching American soap operas.

It was late afternoon when I started hearing noises outside the lab suite, in the direction of the elevator and the floor’s foyer. “Do you hear that?” I asked Tony, but he didn’t hear anything odd, nor did Wanda or Pietro. I stepped to the door and found Steve and Nat loitering outside.

“We’re ordering Thai,” Steve said with an overly casual tone. “Wanted to see if you two wanted anything, and if the twins were staying to eat.”

“He also wanted to make sure nobody was getting brainwashed,” Nat added.

Steve shot her a glare. “Uh…” I began, torn between feeling offended and touched by their concern, but was interrupted by a burst of giggles from behind me. At the same time, I felt the by now familiar pressure against my scalp. I glanced around and gasped at the sight of DUM-E a couple of feet off the ground, held up by a mass of crimson energy. The bot was beeping and swinging his arm in total bafflement. “Hey, hold still,” Tony scolded. “You don’t want her to drop you, do you? It’d take me at least fifteen minutes to get you reassembled and back to your usual state of impairment.”

“Do you always insult him so?” Pietro protested, one hand patting DUM-E’s claw, which stilled to enjoy the pets. “He will think you hate him.”

“Oh, no, he won’t. You’re new, so he’s got you fooled, but he knows. If I’m really mad at him I ignore him. You,” he intoned with a scowl at his eldest metal-child, “are the only one doing the mind manipulation here, you bucket of bolts.” DUM-E chirped, then resolutely turned away from Tony and toward his newfound friend. Wanda was still laughing, but the flow of power from her began to fizzle, spewing sparks as we watched. “You better put him down, Samantha, looks like your nose is tired of wiggling.”

“I assume Samantha is another fictional witch, or else old age is catching up to your mind,” Pietro sniped. 

Tony cackled out loud, but just then, as if to prove his previous point, the tailing-off current of Wanda’s power sizzled and spat in his direction. Wanda yelped, and DUM-E dropped the last few inches to the floor with a bump and an aggrieved squawk. “Tony! I’m sorry. When I am fatigued—my control is not as solid. You are all right?”

Tony had jumped back from the hissing tendril, stood frozen while it vanished, then shook it off. “Yeah, fine, fine.” 

Wanda’s hand shot out toward him, then pulled back when he flinched, and she hung her head. “I am so sorry,” she repeated. “I had hoped maybe you were coming to trust me, a little bit, and then I went and fouled it up.”

I caught my breath when Tony put his hand on Wanda’s shoulder. ‘I am,” he told her. “Trust takes time, though. I believe you when you say that wasn’t your fault, but you know what that tells me, is we need to find somebody you can train with, somebody that knows psychic stuff, or—eh, magic, whatever. Right now, yeah, you look beat. Let’s get you and your womb-mate, heh, back to your SHIELD parking space, and first thing in the morning I’ll get cracking…” He collected the twins and they all turned toward the door, halting when they saw the Avengers standing there. A hint of trepidation crossed both Maximoffs’ faces, but Tony, as usual, barely slowed down. “Well, look who’s assembled. What’s waving your flag, Steve-O?”

“Checking up on you and Chris.” Steve’s nonchalant air did not falter. “And taking dinner orders.”

The twins didn’t stay overnight in the tower, but they visited more and more often as their cases progressed through the system. The reconstituted World Security Council reviewed their case, and some members expressed concern about the safety of allowing them the liberty to start new lives. Tony’s lawyers stood their ground and laid out in horrific detail the regimen of lies HYDRA had used to maintain power over their experimental human weapons. Imprisoning Wanda and Pietro, the lawyers argued with support from psych evaluations Dr. Rausch had performed, would be not only cruel and possibly cause them permanent damage, but next to impossible without resorting to draconian measures that outweighed their offenses. (I didn’t even know electronic collars that jammed brain waves existed, and when I found out, I had to excuse myself from the conversation so I wouldn’t throw up in front of people.)

Ultimately, the council agreed. They handed down a decree that the Maximoffs would perform public service, in the form of training and working with the Avengers. Clint, not surprisingly, volunteered to be the name on the line as their official sponsor, and Phil arranged for them to continue staying in the SHIELD apartment while the new training compound was completed. Pietro in particular was looking forward to some open outdoor spaces to run in again. Tony hoped for that for him too, especially after the rubber flooring in the tower gym had to be replaced for the fourth time when Pietro’s speed set it smoldering. I thought the smell was even worse.

It took Bruce the longest to get comfortable with the twins, but their willingness to work with him and Tony to learn more about their individual powers helped. Wanda, once she had overcome her worry and guilt, proved to be quite a gentle soul, and the day I ran across her and Bruce drinking tea and comparing his Eastern spiritual studies to her small but solid knowledge of the Jewish Kabalah, I felt pretty sure she would be all right.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers compound is completed, and the new team members move in. Wanda starts advanced magical training with a surprising tutor.

True to his word, Tony had even located somebody to help Wanda practice and control her powers better. One otherwise quiet Tuesday afternoon, I was checking the team kitchen before starting supper when a pop and fizz like distant fireworks sounded in the living area. A look out there revealed a ring of golden fire suspended vertically in the air in front of an ottoman.

My palms and fingertips tingled, almost the way they did sometimes when I was sensing Wanda at work. The only thing handy was, naturally, a cast iron skillet, but before I could reach to pick it up and swing, voices sounded through the ring, as if through a half-open door. “I know you’re trying, it’s just not working. Portals aren’t within your potential skill set, maybe. We’ll try again tomorrow. Come on, then. Why you want to go to Stark Tower, of all places, instead of your home is beyond me, but suit yourself…”

Wanda stepped through the opening, the long red coat she had bought on a shopping trip with Pepper and me swinging, and scooted the ottoman aside. I ditched the skillet and headed into the room. “Christine!” she said with delight and gave me a hug and kisses on both cheeks. I returned the hug and watched as a second figure emerged. This one was a tall, thin man, his face angular and handsome, framed by a dark mustache and goatee that reminded me of Tony’s. His garments swung around his feet as well, except in his case, they were a bright red cloak over a blue tunic and trousers, and sturdy high boots. “I would have gone back to the safe house, but Pietro said you were cooking Southern food tonight!” Wanda said.

“Country white beans. Traditionally we season them with pork, but I’m using liquid smoke since you two are joining us. They still taste great. Onions and fried corncakes on the side.”

“Sounds delicious! Practice is hungry work.” She towed me over to the man, who was scanning the common area with an _I suppose this will do_ air. I could almost hear a supercilious sniff. “Dr. Strange, this is the friend I was telling you about. Christine, this is Dr. Stephen Strange, my teacher.”

“Another Christine.” He nodded a curt greeting to me. “You must be the one Wanda spoke of, who can sense her power.”

“And you must be the sorcerer of Greenwich Village!” I put my hand out. 

“Sorcerer Supreme, to be accurate; but at least you didn’t call me a wizard,” he grunted. “I’ll need you to come to the Sanctum with her soon, so we can investigate this further.”

Clearly, he was used to giving orders. I suppressed an inward sigh. “Happy to. Nobody else can figure out what’s causing it, but this being your area of expertise, maybe you’ll have better results. Let me know what your schedule is like and I’ll fit something in around my regular duties. I’m the Avengers’ PR director.”

Strange chuckled. “That must keep you quite busy, between managing the Hulk’s rages and Tony Stark’s ego.”

Enough of suppressing sighs, and enough of playing nice. I dropped my still-unshaken hand and turned back toward the kitchen. “Pietro was up on Clint’s floor the last I knew, Wanda,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll have JARVIS call you when supper is ready. Dr. Strange, it was—instructive—to meet you, and I’ll be in touch about that research get-together.”

I did, a few days later, and arranged the first of what ended up being several sessions of experiments. Although the self-proclaimed Sorcerer Supreme was no more able to dissect my weird sense than anyone else, we were able to rule some things out, which is progress of its own sort. I didn’t have any of the energies that were classified as ‘magic’, for one thing, which was a relief. Even though it sometimes felt like a separate entity, I wasn’t possessed by anything either (and who knew there were more things than demons one could get possessed by? Strange mumbled about parasites, symbiotes, and amorphous extraterrestrials created from the outer abyss, which sounded like an idea HP Lovecraft considered and decided was too way-out.) 

The ‘Sanctum’ was a lovely old brownstone, kept by a scholarly Asian man named Wong who reminded me a little of Bruce at times. (He mentioned at one point that Strange had been a neurosurgeon before taking up the study of magic, which really told me all I needed to know about his attitude.) Their library made me drool, though Strange assured me with his usual arrogance that there was nothing in there I would understand. Just to try to make his point, I suppose, he launched into a discourse on eldritch whips, tao mandalas, and sling rings. “Now,” he challenged me, “did you understand all of that?”

“Nope,” I returned cheerfully, “but I got just enough about your ring and the magic portals to find it all quite fascinating.” 

“Hmph. Open acknowledgement of ignorance. Not at all what I would expect from a defender of Tony Stark.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, darlin’. Tony, I mean, not me. I’m pretty much a mass market paperback, easily digested. He contains multitudes.” I frowned, from my seat cross-legged in a library chair, at Strange’s wrap. “Is there a draft in here? Your cloak is moving.”

“It does that when it wants to,” he said casually.

“It does? Is it a separate entity? Huh. Cool. Is it sentient? Sapient? Does it communicate? No mouth obviously, so no speech, but, telepathy?” That was my latest field of focus, since Strange had had Wanda read my thoughts, project hers, and see if I could pick them up. I would have loved to have succeeded, but I got no more than my usual sense of her power in use, and a few vague echo-like feelings.

“It is a magical relic,” he corrected me. “It is sentient, and a powerful ally.”

“Well, you could have told me that!” I griped. “I’ve been ignoring it all this time. That’s just rude. Forgive me, Mr.—Ms?”

“Obviously, the Cloak has no gender,” Strange drawled.

“Obviously! English sucks, though; no canon pronouns that denote personhood without connoting gender. I’ll go with _they_ , best we have. May I touch you, Cloak?” I put a tentative hand out toward one edge, but it pulled away with a sharp motion. “That’s no, then. Good enough. Tony says words are my superpower, but nonverbal communication works fine.” I let it be and returned to the conversation about the ‘sling rings’; Strange seemed much less reluctant to answer queries now, and actually explained a couple of principles. 

Wanda returned from practicing with Wong in a few minutes and we prepared to head back to the tower. “It would be helpful for you to come back and work with us whenever you have the time, Miss Everhart,” Wong said kindly.

“It would,” Strange agreed. “I find I actually don’t dislike you nearly as much as I expected to.” 

I had to laugh out loud at that. As we positioned ourselves for the portal to be cast, something soft pressed against my hand. When I glanced down, a fold of crimson cloth pushed into my palm like a cat wanting a head rub. “Oh, it’s like that,” I said to the cloak. “You’re a cat. You want to be touched but only when you want to be touched.”

Strange’s eyes followed my gaze downward. A small, surprisingly soft little smile crossed his face. “An apt description. It’s fickle like that.”

The Maximoffs continued to become more comfortable with the team and vice versa. True to form, Pietro flirted his way thru every SHIELD agent he met, and most employees of SI when the twins came to visit the tower. Pep de-escalated a small confrontation when Pietro hit on her PA’s girlfriend, and they bonded as a result. 

The approvals for their immigrations moved more quickly, and soon only the completion of the twins’ debriefing meetings with assorted agencies stood in the way of their full acceptance as fledgling Avengers. Tony declared they needed to come up with superhero names (his term, not mine or anybody else’s, for the call names they used on assignments). Pietro settled on Quicksilver, and inspired by Tony (though she refused to follow his plea for her to choose Sabrina) Wanda dubbed herself the Scarlet Witch, for the color wavelength of her activated power. 

With the completion of the new Avengers training compound upstate, team meetings were held and people started looking ahead. Clint was serious about retiring, though he planned to keep his apartment building, so he would be in New York periodically and swore he would be available whenever he was needed (subject to his upcoming paternity leave). Steve and Nat spent a lot of time in huddles planning; they intended to move to the compound and train the new recruits, but promised to visit the tower regularly. “Nat’s cooking is fine,” Steve said to me, “but mine is not, you know that, and you have me waking up some nights craving catfish and turnip greens.”

“Admit it, Rogers,” Tony shot back, “you’ll miss my pretty face too, and I’ll miss your pretty ass, so you better be back here on a consistent basis.” 

Steve laughed, then quietly admitted to me later, “I’ve got to come back whenever I can. Nat too. She didn’t have a family, well, other than Clint’s, and I think the Avengers became that for her. She has other reasons to be back in town, anyway. And me—I had nothing, when I came out of the ice. Tony gave me a place where I belonged, and a—I guess, yeah, a family—to belong to. I want to pass that along, and try to do the same at the compound for the ones who need it most, like the twins and Vision, but I’m not going to let the place I first called home go.”

Finally, everything was in place, and I set up a major press conference with the whole team in attendance. There, the new Avengers were introduced: the twins (on probationary basis), Vision, Sam, and Rhodey. Tony installed FRIDAY to run the compound, and JARVIS coached his baby sister through whatever she needed. Clint had a long list of home improvement tasks he was eager to hit as soon as Laura and baby Nathaniel were settled at the farm, and Tony was browsing real estate online. (I couldn’t really imagine him retiring, but the thought was a good one.)

Wanda and her teacher had concluded that making portals was just not in her skill set, but Strange agreed grudgingly (or so he pretended; he didn’t seem all that put out about it, really) to open them daily for her to return to the city for her training. That way, she could move to the compound with Pietro and her other new teammates, continue her practice here with him, and visit the tower. Pepper and I had already coaxed her up to the roof with us a couple of times, although the evening she turned up with some of that scary Sokovian beer her brother had joked about was almost the last for us all (well, except Natasha, who could probably drink Thor under the table if she wanted to badly enough).

Along with the ongoing exploration with Wanda of my sensing ability, I also began to work with Vision to determine how much I could detect of his presence, location and the like. It wasn’t strong; I could only locate him if he was within a hundred feet or so, but it was still interesting that I could apparently sense the Mind Stone and things associated with or derived from it, and a handy little secret for us to keep in our collective back pocket.

I liked Vision the more time I spent around him. He had a wisdom and an innocence about him that made it hard not to. I also liked seeing the way he and Wanda gravitated toward each other, being sort of a couple of kindred spirits, and so I encouraged that every chance I got. Once, Wanda shyly admitted that even if she hadn’t talked with Tony and cleared the air between them, she would know now that he was not the monster he had been made out to be, because Vision, his creation, was so wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I alluded to earlier, I am playing fast and loose with the MCU timeline here. In the Wordsmith verse, Stephen Strange became Sorcerer Supreme a couple of years sooner than in canon. The vision of Strange teaching Wanda, and the consequent improvement in her control and skill level, was too good to pass up, but not as good as Chrissy getting to meet one of my favorite supporting characters, the Cloak! lol
> 
> And now that I've brought him in, Stephen has, to no one's surprise ever, pushed his way into things I did not expect...wait till the next couple of chapters, y'all.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor returns from his investigation with some startling news and calls a full team meeting. For the first time, the Avengers learn who has been playing the 'intricate game' of the Infinity Stones, and trying to make pawns of them in the process.

The twins tackled their academic studies at an alarming speed (well, no speed is alarming considering Pietro, granted) and before their final debriefing interviews with SHIELD were even scheduled, they were granted their GEDs. Pietro celebrated by spending an entire day waving his certificate in everybody’s faces, until Tony and Bruce declared that since he now had a diploma, he could become a full lab assistant, and put him to work autoclaving Bruce’s frightening collection of glassware and tightening the bots’ bolts by hand.

Wanda was more quiet in her enthusiasm, but no less thrilled. While she and I helped Tony whip up a massive pasta dinner for the whole team (it was about the only thing he could cook consistently and well), she talked about the Novigrad orphanage where she and Pietro had lived after the deaths of their parents, until they were old enough to move out on their own, surviving on odd jobs and protesting the usual Sokovian state of unrest until HYDRA came calling. Tony listened and nodded, and after supper, I noticed he took her aside. 

Generally, the twins visited a couple of times a week, but the very next day, Wanda popped out of a portal early in the afternoon. A particularly cross Strange accompanied her briefly, and traded insults with Tony even more sharply than usual. The Sorcerer Supreme wanted to place a magical veil of protection around the tower and the compound, and Tony wasn’t thrilled about the idea. After Strange stepped back through his portal, Tony just shrugged. “You ready, Sabrina? We’re going out for a while, Chrissy. JARVIS knows too but if anybody asks I wanted you to know.”

I blinked. “Uh, okay.” I couldn’t recall Tony and Wanda being alone together in the tower, let alone haring off into town. Wanda looked as though she could barely contain her excitement, but no power rose from her to trouble my senses. Tony’s grin spoke of anticipation too. “Just don’t start rumors, please. It’s enough of a nuisance dealing with that asshole General Ross mouthing off about the Avengers being a menace every time he gets close to a microphone, without having to stomp out gossip that Tony Stark’s gone sugar daddy and gotten himself a teenage mail-order bride. People don’t know Wanda well enough yet to know better.” 

Tony cackled and I glared. ”Okay, okay, damn, you never let me have any fun…” he pretended to gripe as he took Wanda’s hand and they headed for the elevator. 

I shrugged and went about my work, but I mentioned it to Pepper when I saw her, just to give her a heads-up. As it happened, she didn’t need one. “Yeah,” she said with a soft smile. “Remember the orphanage in Queens that Tony’s foundation funds? He’s taking her over there; he thought it might make her feel better, after hearing her talk about how hard she and Pietro had it, to see how things are run here.”

They got back late that evening. Wanda’s eyes were red around the edges, and she pulled me into the kitchen. “Did you know? That Tony pays for an orphanage? For several, really. And when he is sad, he goes there and helps them, and holds the babies and comforts them. The workers were so happy to see him come in.” Wanda pressed her lips together. “If only we had known!”

“Wanda. HYDRA didn’t want you to know. But you know now. You beat them, by learning the truth and acting on it.” I patted her shoulders. “Now, calm down, or knowing Tony, he’ll think he’s upset you.”

She gulped, and proceeded to rush back out into the common area and throw her arms around Tony’s neck, shocking her twin and all the Avengers present (including Tony). From there, a delightful friendship developed. Nat made fun of Tony’s accent when he wanted to practice his Russian, but Wanda, he told me with a fond chuckle one night, was a surprisingly patient teacher. (Wanda confided later on that she kept foremost in her mind what I had told her about Tony being too hard on himself, so she always encouraged him to keep trying, even when his pronunciation was, apparently, pretty atrocious.)

As the new team members started their residency at the compound, the tower was still busy. Wanda sometimes stayed overnight, like the night Nat was teaching her to knit; we all lost track of time and found ourselves on the roof at 2 AM confronting a rather distressed Pietro who had run from the compound worried about his ‘baby sister’. They both ended up staying over that night. The next morning, Wanda floated onto the common floor to be faced with Steve and Tony mock-threatening each other over the last donut in the box. My stomach hurt from trying to hold in peals of laughter, and once I assured Wanda no harm was going to come to anybody (unless I wet myself giggling) she was all in. In fact, when they appeared about ready to either come to blows or start making out, Wanda bugged her eyes out and let out a scream of fake horror. Both men’s heads snapped around like they were on the same string, and that pretty much did me in. I fell against Wanda’s shoulder howling, and in an instant they joined in.

Just because the team was divided physically didn’t lessen my workload. If anything. I was kept even more busy. Answering email, monitoring team social media accounts (the official ones; there was only so much I could do with individual Avengers’ online shenanigans!), and vetting the requests that poured in faster than ever, for personal appearances, charity functions, product endorsements, statements and more. I held a standing meeting with the team, twice weekly, at the tower, with the compound residents beaming in via Skype. Besides that, I had weekly scheduled one-on-one’s with each team member, plus just grabbing them if something urgent came up.

The fan mail situation had gotten so dense that Tony had somebody designated in the tower’s mail room just for Avengers mail. We kept that address as the only one on file for everybody, so as to maintain the best security at the compound. It worked for a while, until eventually the location got out; but Happy held up his duties admirably and kept things tight. His favorite part was vetting gifts sent by fans old and young, from the kids’ drawings every Avenger treasured, to hand-knitted scarves in their uniform colors.

On top of my Avengers duties, I continued to help Pepper and Leticia with SI things. Tony fiddled with the high-tech hearing aids he had designed for Clint, until he had them in a marketable form, and Pepper wanted Clint to do an endorsement. He was fine with it (his exact words were “you bet, Miss Potts, use me as you see fit! Oh, wait, no, scratch that, I want to go on living and if your mad superhero man hears me say that he’ll blast me into the next frame of the multiverse, so I’m thinking I probably should run now?”) but Pepper insisted on going through all the appropriate channels, so that meant meetings with her just like any other company that approached one or more Avengers about lending their name to a product. 

Thor was the only team member consistently out of pocket in those days. He was still off chasing down leads on the mysterious Infinity Stones. I had to admit to myself, a part of me hoped he might come back with another one; I was curious whether I could sense it too, the way I could the Mind Stone in Vision’s head. He did land on the tower roof at intervals, to update his teammates, except for the one day he arrived to find everybody at the compound and hopped upstate. When Tony came back, he said Thor was planning to take his search straight to the one person he felt might have some knowledge about the Mind Stone in particular: his brother, still imprisoned in Asgard.

I couldn’t say I wasn’t nervous to hear that. Thor was caught in a terrible bind, loving his brother, knowing what Loki had done to the earth, its people and Thor’s friends, and suspecting much of it had not been totally Loki’s will. It wasn’t really mine to worry about, I told myself, and went about my daily duties, until some days after, when that familiar boom of thunder from a clear sky over Manhattan said our favorite Asgardian was incoming.

“Lady Christine,” Thor greeted me with unusual curtness. “May I ask that you assemble the Avengers? I must speak with the entire team as soon as is practicable.”

This sounded serious, and to put it mildly, not good. I hauled him to the nearest conference room and buzzed the emergency line at the compound. JARVIS rounded up Tony and Bruce (and Nat, who was in town checking on the free dance studio she had run on the down-low out of an old Brooklyn storefront until her face became too well known and she had to turn it over to other hands). By the time they arrived, Steve had answered the call and gathered the others from training, plus Clint who was visiting there, to settle before the video feed in the compound’s main meeting room. Wanda was still at the Sanctum; wishing those telepathy trials had worked, I called her cell instead. Moments later, a portal opened and she stepped through. To everyone’s surprise, Strange and Wong followed her. “I understand Thor has been seeking information on the Infinity Stones,” Wong said. “We have some knowledge of them as well. It would be wise for us to all share what we have, I think.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tony agreed as he flopped into a chair at the head of the table. “How’re the balloon animal lessons coming, Copperfield?”

“I’m squeezing them in between defending your reality, douche,” Strange retorted. 

The Cloak swirled a corner around my wrist in greeting, and I petted their soft wooly folds. “Do you suppose there’s anything we could do to make those two play nice?” I asked them, tongue in cheek. A corner of the cloth peeked up toward Strange, then over at Tony in full-on insolent slouch, then back at me with a tiny wriggle that was almost a shrug—I took it that way at any rate. “Yeah, I know, dumb question. Okay, I guess I should excuse myself so you all can get—“

“Actually, Lady Christine, a part of my news does concern you, so it would be fitting for you to remain,” Thor said. Tony sat up straight at that. “That said, it sounds as though Master Wong probably has a more general understanding of the Stones as a whole, so I will defer to him first.”

With a small incline of his head, Wong stepped forward and swept his hand through the air. What appeared looked a lot like the holographic displays Tony and Bruce used, except that he didn’t have access to those, so—magic? From what I’d seen, ‘magic’ seemed to be a blanket term they used for highly advanced psychic abilities, as Thor used it for Asgardian science; but wherever they came from didn’t matter at the moment, only the information they were being used to convey. I had noticed I couldn’t sense the magic they used, though. Five sparkling balls of light hovered above the long table where we sat, floating in a projection of a starry sky. “From the dawn of the universe, there was nothing. Then, boom! The Big Bang sent six elemental crystals, hurtling across the virgin universe. These Infinity Stones each control an essential aspect of existence." 

Strange joined him at the table. “The Space stone,” he said as one projected orb glowed blue, “can transport its bearer anywhere. The Reality stone can bend the laws of physics.”

“Oh no,” Bruce groaned under his breath as a second stone lit up dark red. “No law bending, please, my brain can’t handle it.”

Unswayed, Strange went on, “The Power stone, obviously, confers phenomenal power; the Mind stone, you are already familiar with.” He nodded toward the video screen on the wall. At the compound, Vision sat calmly, but sitting beside me, Wanda shifted uneasily. I knew they had become close even before moving to the compound, and wondered just how much closer they might have gotten. “And Time,” Strange added. He made a motion with his hands around a large and ornate metal locket he wore; it cracked open just far enough for a rough crystal to be seen, and a vivid green glow to escape.

“That’s an Infinity Stone?” I asked. “Guess that answers a question I hadn’t asked yet.”

The sorcerer actually smiled slightly at me. “I didn’t tell you deliberately, in order to see how far your perception extended. It seems you are _simpatico_ only with the Mind stone.”

“Wait,” Nat spoke up. “You said six. What’s that one?” She pointed to the display, where purple, yellow and green stones had illuminated as Strange named them. One remained, an orange orb, less bright than the others but waxing as she spoke.

“That’s the Soul stone,” Wong said. “Very, and I mean _very_ , little is known about it. For that reason alone, it may be the most dangerous of all the stones.”

“Indeed,” Thor rumbled. “Even in Asgard, among the most learned of our folk, no one has ever reported seeing it, or knows of its location.”

“So, we’ve got two of these big rock candies on one relatively small planet,” Tony said slowly. I couldn’t tell how much of his hesitation was thinking, and how much was real trepidation. “Should we be scared?”

“No,” Strange shook his head. “Vision is worthy, so I am told by Miss Maximoff.”

“Wanda flatters me.” A modest smile curled Vision’s mouth, and Wanda smiled back and ducked her head. Oh yeah, she had it bad. “I try. The more I learn of its power, the less it controls me. One day, I hope to be able to control it.”

“Hm.” If Wong were more demonstrative, I would’ve said he was surprised. “You are wise.”

“And the Eye of Agamotto here keeps the Time stone in check, and I can control it when its power is needed. Very few humans, or single entities of any race, have the needed strength to handle an Infinity Stone, though, so for once, Stark, I commend you for your concern.” It sounded as if it physically pained Strange to say that last.

Tony just grinned again, but his grin faded when Thor stood. “Thank you, Master Wong, for you have touched perfectly upon the grave news which I bring. Very few can handle one Stone, but it is possible to place one, or more, in a special container to allow for a user to wield them with lesser consequences...and this, according to my brother Loki, is exactly what someone plans. A genocidal warlord, the last survivor of the planet Titan. His name is Thanos, and his intent is to kill half of all living things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA, surprise! Y’all didn’t expect the big purple asshole to appear in our story this soon, now did you? :D With Endgame on all our minds right now, it wasn't surprising to me that this scene turned this way, but I promise, it wasn't my original intent. It works, though.
> 
> And yes, Steve and Tony cutting up about the donuts was inspired, once again, by RL, specifically this video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Ty1zVZQ8X4  
> I swear, half the reason I redeemed Wanda was so I could use this. lolol. Elizabeth Olsen sells the heck out of this bit.
> 
> More bits from comic canon, in this case the legendary story about Tony and the orphanage. <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor reports on his interrogation of Loki, which yielded some surprising results. The Avengers debate meeting with the trickster, and Thor shares his ideas about a diplomatic summit between Earth and Asgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mostly_Void_Partially_Stars and schizonephilim for the discussion in the comments section that helped to inspire this chapter and the next couple!

Tony leaned forward, his face overtaken with that laser intent. “Tell me his name again.”

“Thanos,” Thor said. “He is a plague, Anthony. He invades planets, takes what he wants, and wipes out half the populations in the name of ‘balancing the universe’. Loki has told me all he knows. The attack on New York—forgive me for speaking of it, my sword-brother, for I know how it pains you to think on that horror—but now we know Thanos sent Loki, and the Chitauri, to perpetrate that atrocity on the earth. That's _him_.”

A slow nod answered him. “Thanos.” Tony’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “So that’s who’s been in my head for three and a half years.”

“I went to Asgard to question Loki,” Thor went on after a moment. “I told him that we knew the Mind Stone was in the scepter, that it attempted to affect our minds and turn us against each other, and that I suspected it had done the same to him. He…was not expecting such awareness from me.” His voice and eyes dropped for a second, as if silently ashamed. “In his surprise, he told me everything he knew of Thanos and his plans. The Chitauri invasion was a cover for the warlord to scour Earth, once subjugated, and locate the stone or stones he believed to be here.

“A time ago, there was a…conflict…between Loki and our father. Loki learned his heritage was not as he had always believed, and in a rage at being lied to, he swore himself against Asgard and its allies. Knowing that Earth was dear to my heart and that I had pledged my protection to it, he gave no argument when Thanos caught him at so low an ebb. The Titan seduced him with promises of power and destruction and revenge, and used the Mind stone to enforce his will upon my brother. He…may have used more. Loki refused to say, but his behavior and demeanor when I pressed him regarding Thanos leads me to think he was not only brainwashed, but tortured, to ensure his compliance.”

Steve’s wince was clear even over the video feed. He had to be thinking of his best friend who had suffered similarly. I sent up a quick mental prayer for all those under duress, then returned my attention to Thor as he continued his account.

“I took this information to my father, and persuaded him to hear me out. Then I surprised him by bringing Loki with me. He went into his usual bluster, and demanded to know why Loki had not shared any such facts with him at his trial—well, ‘trial’,” he added with air quotes. He had just recently learned those and their significance, declared them appropriate in many settings, and used them every time he got an excuse. It was adorable, and despite the gravity of the discussion, it was hard not to smile just a little. “Loki said, quite simply, that he never offered it because he knew no one would believe him. I said, ‘I believe you, my brother, and I think we can make Odin believe it as well’.

“Ultimately, we succeeded. I used the knowledge to urge the king to move ahead on forging a closer alliance with Midgard—Earth and all the worlds around it—so as to have a network to rely upon.” He walked a few steps around the table, and looked around into all the upturned and listening faces. “It is not just a matter now of if and when future attempts happen. This Thanos is out there, and we must take steps to stand ready.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” Bruce nodded. Tony looked lost within his mind until his science bro nudged him; I wondered if he was thinking about Wanda’s vision, of a return alien attack. He had been fearing this for a long time, and now we had hard proof of the risk. I held back a shiver.

“So do you have steps in mind already, Thor?” Steve asked.

“Loki has been released from the dungeons—”

“Sounds like a place he might enjoy,” Tony grunted under his breath, thankfully returning to his more normal MO.

“—and he and I intend to travel together to seek out all the lore on the Stones that we can find, as well as all the background and intelligence we can gather about Thanos, his armies and his route. I shall return periodically to brief you all. At some point, the alliance with Asgard will require meetings to negotiate terms and finalize agreements. The logical person to stand for Earth in that would, of course, be you, Anthony.”

“Uh, whoa, wait up there, point break.” Tony’s eyes widened until white showed all around the brown, which is some feat considering how large they are to begin with. “I can barely stay civil sometimes swinging a mediocre business deal. What makes you think I’m the one to meet with—with alien emissaries and hammer out mutual assistance treaties? You want somebody for that gig who makes earth look good, a team of experienced diplomats, plus, I dunno, Cap, maybe. He’d be a safe bet. He’s the Avengers’ leader—”

“A leader,” Steve broke in, though in an unexpectedly solicitous tone. “I’m a soldier, Tony, a strategist. I can run things on the ground in a fight. You, though? You run things in between fights, and you keep fights from happening. Thor’s right, you’re the one I would trust to negotiate darn near anything, for the Avengers or for the earth.”

“Plus you already have name recognition,” Nat added. “Remember Thor said people on other worlds know who you are.” She didn’t go farther, and I knew it was to keep from triggering another anxiety attack in Tony, but I wished she could have said what I bet she was thinking: _Sending the hero who, in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy, single-handedly turned back a Chitauri invasion will make Earth look strong._

“Nothing personal,” Strange began, “and I never imagined myself being driven to say this, but I agree with Stark. There’s no way he—” 

Every Avenger in the meeting, old and new alike, rounded on him (except, naturally, Tony, who still looked baffled and a tad freaked out by the whole thing). Thor’s glare was accompanied by a tingle of static electricity that lifted the fine hairs on the back of my neck. The cloak literally shivered. The sorcerer halted mid-word, his eyes flicked from one murderous expression to the next, and his mouth deliberately closed. “Prudent move there,” I said under my breath. Wong shot me a look that was almost amused.

“Not only are you a hero known across the stars, Anthony,” Thor resumed when the air settled, “and a leader of the Avengers, but you know the threat better than any other human. Certainly, those with proficiency in political parley should accompany you, but you have sat with this concern, wrestled with it, lived with it—far longer alone than you should have, to be honest, though it shames me to admit to my own failing in supporting you.”

“A futurist.” Clint had listened quietly at the compound, surrounded by his former teammates, but now he leaned forward. “You said that one time, shellhead. You’re a futurist. That crazy damn brain of yours sorts through shit like JARVIS, well, a little slower. You put it together, follow the ley lines, see what’s ahead. That’s your thing, so that makes you perfect for this gig.”

“Indeed, friend Clint,” Thor agreed. “He is almost like a seer of old, in that.”

“Oh fuck no,” Tony said. “Don’t stick me with that. Seers of old never turned out well. Ever hear of Cassandra?”

“Yeah,” Bruce surprised me by chiming in. “Yeah, and you’re not her. Nobody listened to her until it was too late, and the only way she could convince everybody she was right was by fucking _dying_ , trying to stop the disaster she predicted. That…is not you, bro. We’re not going there. We're gonna get ahead of this Thanos guy, and he’s gonna regret he messed with us.”

Tony chewed his lower lip, but the sparkle in his eyes reminded me of the night we first met, when he had been swept away with enthusiasm talking about his projects; it was that love of the new, kindling in him. “I…yeah,” he admitted. “The idea of getting to go to another world without having to take the A train across the galaxy to get there—I could go for that.”

Thor’s nod was animated. “It will be a joy to show you my home, my friend,” he told Tony, “and to introduce you to my parents. My mother is particularly keen to meet some of my off-world comrades. _And_ ,” he added as he turned toward me, “she is also eager to sample some of the exotic cuisines of Earth, so, Lady Christine, I would ask if you would consent to accompany the party from Earth to Asgard.”

“I…um…well, I did promise you that, didn’t I?” I managed. “Sure. I’ll have enough advance notice to get my work caught up. Which reminds me, I’ll want to get with you—everybody really- and hash out how much you think civilians need to know. It would be good, since I’ve already told them Loki might not be fully responsible for the invasion, to give them the next piece of the puzzle, maybe even a name to tie blame to.” 

“I have a question,” Pietro spoke up with an unusual tentativeness to his voice. “It may not be my place to bring up such matters, but I am familiar with war criminals, and laws exist to hold them to account. There is a court called the World Court, is there not? Might the Avengers petition them to declare this Thanos accused of war crimes against Earth? At the very least, it would show people we have not forgotten his actions, and will not allow him a second attempt.”

Rhodey and Sam were sitting side by side off to one side of the compound group; they cocked their heads and looked at each other almost in unison. It made sense, them both being military, that they would process Pietro’s suggestion in similar ways. “That’s a great idea, actually, kid,” Rhodey replied. “We could look into the procedure, if Thor thinks it’s okay to let that intel out.”

“An outstanding thought, young speedster!” Thor cheered. “With those settled, I have but one more item to put before the team. I would ask if at some time, I might bring my brother to meet with you who fought him. Being freed from imprisonment now, being believed and accepted, he is expressing regret for the damage he caused, and he wishes to deliver his apologies to you personally, as he did you the most harm while under Thanos’ sway.”

It didn’t surprise me at all that Clint spoke up first. It did shock me what he said. “I’d be good with that. If what you’ve pulled together is legit intel, then he was going through the same thing I was. You guys gave me a chance, after some cognitive recalibration.” He grinned at Nat, who returned the smile. _Not even gonna ask_ , I decided. “From where I sit, he deserves the same.”

The team debated for a few minutes, and finally decided to hear Loki out, for Thor’s sake if nothing else. Strange uncorked another surprise when he calmly said he was glad to be made aware of this potential visit; as Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, he had a watch list of planetary dangers, and Loki was apparently near the top of that list. “If he appeared on Earth unannounced, I would be obliged to locate him and render him non-threatening. Not by harming him!” he added hastily when Thor scowled. “More like, dropping him into a pocket dimension for a little while. That won’t be necessary now, though. More’s the pity, that’s always fun,” he added half to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wordsmith verse is incorporating several changes in the timeline of the Thor films. The Dark World hasn’t happened yet & won’t for a while; the dark elves will attack while Thor and Loki are gone seeking information on the Infinity Stones. Most all of that will happen off-screen, since our story is being told by Chrissy, but just so you know, Frigga will die defending Asgard. The brothers return, then resume their search, but get separated when Surtur captures Thor. Loki escapes and returns to Asgard where he sends a failing Odin to earth and takes his place. Ragnarok happens pretty much as per canon.
> 
> Yes, some more of the dialogue in this chapter is adapted from Infinity War. The team is getting ‘out in front’ of things in a big way! But not an implausible one; MCU could as easily have gone this route, I think. 
> 
> Bruce cites one of several versions of the myth of Cassandra, to whom canon Tony is often compared. Thankfully in this verse, the team listens to Tony and respects his foresight!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thor brings Loki to meet with the Avengers, Chrissy finally gets a proper introduction to the god of mischief.

As it developed, Thor’s request to appoint me executive chef for Earth’s diplomatic delegation to his home world was not the only reason he had asked me to stay for the team meeting. When Strange and Wong portaled back to their Sanctum, he explained that he had told Loki about my odd knack for sensing the Mind stone and its affiliates, hoping his brother’s knowledge of magic (which, he said, was voluminous) might be able to shed some light on its origin. “He had no thoughts on the subject upon first presentation, but with your leave, asked that he might assess the situation for himself, if the Avengers permitted him to visit here.”

“I don’t want him messing with you, cornbread,” Tony snapped. “In fact, when we get Reindeer Games on the calendar, you take the day off. Hell, take the week off. Go to the other side of the planet. Borrow an SI jet, climb Mount Everest, whatever, but—”

“AHEM,” I interrupted him, and pointed to myself. “Grown-ass woman, remember? My call, not yours, though I—I appreciate you worrying, more than you know, hot rod, I swear I do. This is my call though, and I’m all for it. Thank you for thinking of me, Thor. I’d love any help in untangling this.”

“Superb!” Thor declared. “Loki too is delighted, not just at getting his hands on a magical mystery to plumb, but at meeting this Midgardian wordsmith I have told him so much about.”

That made me even more nervous than the idea of an Asgardian mage probing my brain cells. Compared to the centuries they had to hone their skills at whatever they did, I would seem like an infant. For days thereafter, whenever I thought about the upcoming appointment, I felt like that little girl playing in her mother’s dress suit and high heels again, the way I had felt for much of my professional career, like a pretender on the brink of being found out. 

On the morning the brothers were scheduled to arrive, I put on my business armor. Tony caught me pacing around the team’s common area and had to trip me to get my attention. “You don’t have to do this, Chrissy. I know, I know, it’s not up to me, and you’re right, it shouldn’t be. But you shouldn’t feel like letting Thor’s bag-of-cats-crazy bro poke around in your head is something you owe us, somehow!”

“Oh. No, that’s not my problem. You know how Thor brags on people he likes—there’s no telling what he’s said about ‘the Avengers’ wordsmith’, probably that I can charm birds out of the sky with my voice or some such shit, and—I can’t keep up with Loki, you know I can’t. No human could.”

Tony honestly looked puzzled, a vanishingly rare look on him. “Of course you can. You’re you. Words are your superpower, I keep telling you that. And you don’t have to prove anything to Mister Performance Issues, or anybody else, anyway.” He stepped close and made me look at him. “Chin up, cornbread! If you’re not on your side, who else is gonna be? Besides me, of course, and Pep, and, well, okay, poor metaphor there, maybe, because everybody who ever knew you should be in your corner, unless they are assholes or supervillains.”

As usual, I could not keep myself from smiling when he babbled. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Hey, it worked,” he shrugged before he hugged me quickly, as the rest of the team began to filter in. The meeting had been held to just the Avengers who had fought Loki, and they all seemed as tense as me. 

Loki’s striking features were thinner than the one time I had seen him before, and his pale skin was an almost unhealthy white. He looked as on edge as my friends did; he paced back and forth as he spoke, and his fingers twitched as though he wished for something to fidget with and was holding it back through sheer will.

“I…am pleased you agreed to meet with me,” he said. “I wished to convey my regards, and my regrets. For mortals, you Avengers were redoubtable foes, and would earn the respect of any opponent. It is the mortal part that shames me. Raised as a prince, I should never have allowed myself to be…coerced into attacking those who could never defend themselves against my powers.” He glanced at Thor, who sat at ease in the biggest armchair, but whose gaze followed Loki on his antsy meanderings. At the big man’s encouraging nod, he continued, “My brother tells me there is a procedure in progress for the people of earth, and of this city in particular, to be made aware of my… _apologies_.” He grimaced, as though that was not a word he used often. 

Steve spoke up. “Thor said this warlord, Thanos, persuaded you to help in his planned conquests.”

“Hah, yes, persuaded, I suppose one could charitably use that term. I was—experiencing what I think humans call a life crisis. Thanos played upon my anger, and, I am mortified to admit, turned me into a weapon meet for his hand.” 

I thought about Thor’s suspicion that Loki had been tortured into compliance, and repressed a shiver. Loki began reviewing the information we had heard from Thor, and adding more details for the Avengers’ edification, about the alien commander (after Tony threw up his hands and groaned, “Sit _down_ , Rudolph, you’re squirming so much you’re making me itch.”). I caught Thor’s eye and slipped from my discreet seat in the corner to his side. 

“What does your brother like to eat?” I whispered. “It’s my night to cook supper, and he needs a good meal, more like several, to put some meat on his bones!”

“Loki is fond of all foods, as far as I am aware,” Thor replied, in as close to a whisper as I had ever heard him get, which was basically a low roar, “so any of your Midgardian delicacies would not go amiss.”

“Great,” I said and slipped out to the kitchen long enough to pull a vat of Brunswick stew out of the freezer and put it on the stove to simmer.

When I crept back in to resume my seat, Loki was standing before Nat. I halted in the doorway as he spoke. “—not accustomed to being in such a position, but I would ask your forgiveness for using your past against you, Widow. Mine is far darker red than yours, and that was ill done of me. Although, you were a delight to spar with. And in case you ever looked it up, I retract all accusations of your being a mewling quim.” Nat just blinked, slowly, like a cat accepting the presence of a new puppy. Loki turned to Clint, sitting beside her. “Barton, you of all have least cause to hear my—”

“Yeah, we don’t need to go there,” Clint interrupted, but without heat. “I went through some shit, sure, and I blamed you for putting it on me, but, turns out you were in the same spot, just a rung higher on the food chain.”

Loki stared, then inclined his head as if to an equal. “Dr. Banner,” he finally said, facing Bruce, who was sitting on Nat’s other side, “I too have experience with the struggle to accept a part of one’s self, and I salute you for your fight to bring yourself and the Hulk into balance. Captain Rogers,” he went on as he moved toward Steve, “I greet you with respect. And Stark,” he finished, “I hope perhaps some time we can share another drink under better circumstances.” About the time I was thinking he wasn’t nearly the bad-ass I had thought, he let out a vexed huff and spun on his heel to glare at Thor. “ _There!_ Are you satisfied? Did you derive sufficient enjoyment from watching me abase myself??”

Thor just chuckled. “Not surprised to hear you didn’t mean any of it,” Steve remarked, though he did sound mildly disappointed. 

“Oh, I meant it!” Loki fumed. “I am however unaccustomed to being obliged to _say_ it. So, brother, now that the mandated wallowing in the emotional slop has been completed, may we proceed to—” He was interrupted by a small snort, which rapidly mushroomed into a succession of snickers. With uncanny accuracy, he whirled to face their source: Tony. “You find my humiliation amusing, little human?”

“Hey!” Tony got out, his face pink from holding back laughter. “Not my fault I didn’t get giant genes, Blitzen.” A spasm of something passed over Loki’s irate features, gone in the next instant. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear, it’s—” He waves his hand. “Never mind. I’m just not so good with the feelings thing, either, so—empathy? People keep telling me I need to learn that—”

“And I keep telling you those people are stuffed full of shit,” I spoke up, and stepped up to rest my hand on his shoulder. “Great minds think alike, huh?” Tony grinned up at me and I returned the smile before I lifted my eyes to Loki’s. 

The mage’s face was suddenly wiped of all irk and seemed to light up with cheeky anticipation. “Ah! And at last, I have a proper introduction to the Avengers’ lovely proxy. Well met, Miss Everhart. My brother praises your way with words to the utmost heights, when one might reasonably expect him to praise me!”

“I figured he might,” I said. “I’m far more modest in singing my own praises. You have had far more experience than I, so I expect your powers would far outstrip mine. But in all fairness, I have talked my way out of confrontations with everything from killer robots to sexual predators, so I would say I do all right.”

Tony shifted in his seat and I could almost feel him shooting me the side-eye. Loki just nodded, though. “The gift of talk is both a shield and a sword. It gratifies me, lady, to hear you have learned both. Perhaps you might consider a step up, and join my household to learn far more.”

“Hold up, horn-dog—” Tony started. 

“Why, Stark,” Loki gibed. “I was given to understand that your heart was pledged to the redoubtable Miss Potts.”

“It is,” I cut in. “But it’s not as if having a lover stops one from having friends, wouldn’t you agree?” The small snort from the other side of the room was immensely satisfying; it’s not easy to make Nat laugh out loud, even quietly. 

Loki didn’t respond with pique this time. Instead, his little smirk widened. “A true warrior woman.” He took my hand in his and raised it to his lips. Seriously, what was with guys trying to be all classy and kiss my hand? Not saying it wasn’t enjoyable, but really! “And unmated, and I seem to recall you called me comely in my hearing once, while I was sadly muzzled and unable to, ah, utilize my mouth properly in response. Mayhap you could learn more, far more, in my household than you imagine.”

I allowed myself one giggle, and then went full-on Southern belle on him. “Why, you silver-tongued devil. You do know how to flatter a girl. Unfortunately for you, where I come from, mamas raise their daughters not to fall for every handsome fella with a smooth line of talk.”

The glint in his eyes looked familiar, and suddenly I knew why; it was the look of someone who’s finally found a worthy sparring partner, the look I'd seen in Tony’s eyes the night we met. “I can do far more than flatter, Miss Everhart, and I am…not always handsome, nor a ‘fella’, should that be a stumbling block.”

That stopped my train of thought for a moment, and everybody else’s, judging from the sudden mad stillness. From the way Thor shifted, he was either surprised by the information, or by the revelation of it. More likely the latter, I suspected. “Really? Huh. Cool.” I smiled, and Loki cocked his head with a curious expression. I wondered how many people knew what he had just said, or whether they accepted it as casually. My guess was neither. “Makes no difference to me. I’m not in the market for a boyfriend right now, and girls aren’t my cup of java, but it was kind of you to share. Do you prefer gender-neutral pronouns, or ones that match whatever body you’re using at the time?”

He really paused then. “You know, no one has ever asked me that before. I don’t know. I shall have to ponder on it.”

“Good enough.” The room felt like it started to breathe again. “Now, your dear bro there thinks you can maybe help me make some sense of this weird propensity I seem to have developed. What would you need to do? Can it be done here, or do you need privacy, or—” 

“I don’t think privacy will be needed,” Steve said sharply and stood up. 

“Or,” Clint added as he followed suit, “let’s just say, while we don’t distrust you enough to keep you out of our place, Loki, we do distrust you enough to not leave you unguarded with our friend who, as bad a bitch as she is, probably is not equipped to go toe to toe with a demigod.”

“Y’all,” I groaned (although a bit of me did a little victory dance; if being called a bad bitch by Clint Barton wasn’t an accomplishment, I didn’t know what was). “As I think I said to a certain witch not long ago, trust has to start someplace.”

“No, they are correct,” Loki surprised me by saying. “I am not trustworthy.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to be, though, now does it?” I returned. “That said, you’ve probably never had to keep a job. Not listening to your bosses is a good way to lose one. So as much as I despise being hovered over, I’ll take it in the spirit in which it is intended, and defer to their wishes.” After a beat, I went on, “So can we shit or get off the pot here? Supper’s gonna burn if somebody doesn’t get in there to it.”

“I got that.” Bruce headed for the kitchen.

“Can we…” Loki looked halfway afraid to ask for a translation.

“Get on with whatever you need to do, is what I meant.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing this chapter, Loki was going along being all repentant, and I kept writing and going 'this just isn't right'. Then of course, he busted loose, revealed Thor had pretty much ordered him to make nice, and became his snarky fabulous self. lol! Another element from comics that I like turns up in this chapter, Loki being genderfluid (which iirc actually does come right form the original Norse myths).
> 
> Before you ask, Tony's crack about 'giant genes' does not indicate he knows anything of the secret about Loki's parentage. He just gets tired of people slagging on him for being short. <3 and really, he's not that short! It's just that most of his teammates are huge.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki evaluates Chrissy's situation and offers his opinion. The 60 Minutes team interview continues to generate positive public notice, but you can't please everybody, and when rumbles of discontent begin to emerge, the Avengers start to plan ahead.

Loki’s initial assessment of me wasn’t all that different from Strange’s. His magic looked like a glowing greenish mist, and as it moved around me, he determined, in agreement with the sorcerer’s previous verdict, that I did not have any magic of my own. “Whatever works within you is not like my _seidr_ , nor any sort of magery I have encountered. It…is almost an entity, almost, yet not quite that either.”

“I can’t sense yours either,” I told him, “except that one time when you said you were pushing harder. I could feel that thing I feel, like something in me is pushing back.”

With nothing else to go on, Loki could rule out the same things Strange had, but he couldn’t make any definite diagnosis, either. He had an idea, though. “If the young witch of whom you spoke, and the bearer of the…of the Mind Stone…could be summoned here, I can conduct a more thorough interrogation of the energy within you, through its reactions to them.”

The team didn’t like that (Tony _really_ didn’t) but, again, it wasn’t their call. “If Wanda and Vision are comfortable with it, I am,” I told him. “If that’s all we can do for right now, everybody come on and eat up.” Loki eyed the stew with a touch of suspicion, until Thor all but stuck his head in his bowl like a puppy; then it seemed no time at all from first taste to second bowl wiped out by the mage. 

After the meal, I texted Wanda at the compound. She was eager to help and said she and Vision would ‘be right over’. We discussed what exactly that might mean, while dishes were cleaned up and Loki was properly introduced to Pepper, who he greeted with more respect than he had shown to literally anybody else in the building. “I recognize the person who holds the true power in any setting. It’s a survival skill,” he said. Tony, of course, agreed wholeheartedly, and his pretend-pout only held up a few seconds before it morphed into a proud smirk.

Wanda arrived just then—floating outside the sitting area windows, wrapped securely in Vision’s arms, about the same time the elevator dinged and JARVIS informed us that Pietro was on his way up. When everybody was inside and introduced, Loki and Vision eyed each other, Vision with his usual calm and Loki with an actual hint of tightness to his posture, mirrored by virtually every other person in the room, superhero or squishy human. “Brother,” Thor said, “we do not wish for you to find yourself overcome by nearness to the Mind Stone, and do that which you might not otherwise consider doing.”

“You need have no concern along that line,” Vision assured him, and the whole room, dryly. “I shall blast him into orbit if he tries anything. That should safeguard me without doing a demigod much permanent harm.”

Loki’s chuckle seemed a bit forced, but he moved into further testing without much of a pause. It didn’t take long for me to demonstrate what I could with the stone, since that was only sensing its location without having to have eyes on it. When Wanda stepped in and manifested her power, I felt that familiar pressure again—and Loki, visibly startled, stepped back. The crimson energy flickered out. “Loki?” I asked. ‘What’s wrong?”

He blinked several times quickly, shook his head and gave a near-shiver. I repeated my question, and this time took a step closer. Somebody sucked in a breath; I thought it was Steve, judging from the location off to one side of me. “Stay back, Chris,” Clint said in a tone that said he sure wished he had a bow in his hands. 

I ignored him and put out a careful hand, not touching, but close enough to Loki that he could touch if he wanted to. He focused on it, then looked up at me, with an air of puzzlement. “I…I am all right,” he said at last with a nod. “When the Scarlet Witch invoked her power, yours rose with it and—reminded me for a moment of the signature of yonder stone, and of the time I spent in thrall to it.” After another breath he waved a hand. “I am well, I need no solicitude from humans,” he asserted. I gave him The Look. It seemed to work about as well with him to express _I see through your bullshit_ as it did with Tony, except of course he wasn’t about to admit that.

“So, whatever is happening with Chris derives from the Mind stone?” Nat asked in the quiet that followed.

“No, no,” Loki shook his head again, in negation this time. “I still cannot identify it, but it is not _of_ the stone. It only responds to it. It—seems to be attempting to protect her, from that which it perceives as a threat, and thus it is no threat to her itself, I believe.”

“Great,” I sighed. “I bust my ass to keep other people from trying to shelter me, and some unidentified thing inside of me ends up doing the same damn thing.” This time I did take Loki’s hand in both mine. “Thank you for trying, though, and I’m sorry it stirred up bad memories for you.” Carefully concealed shock showed on his face then, as if he’d never had honest concern expressed to him, or thanks, or apologies. He did not reply, but he didn’t have to. I got it. “Looks like the entertainment portion of the program is over, y’all!” I said over my shoulder. “Talk amongst yourselves.”

They did, too. Loki repeated his report on Thanos for the late arrivals, then found his way over to Wanda. I heard him tell her, “I sense your past hurt, and anger. Do not let it consume you, child, as it did me. Your power intrigues me; perhaps we can spar sometime.” Wanda’s eyes sparked with curiosity; she was well able to take care of herself, I thought. 

With our magical business over, that drink Tony had promised Loki after his capture became a small spontaneous late-night cocktail hour. Thor had brought Asgardian mead, which meant we ended up having to pour Steve into bed (okay, not quite, but he was buzzed and quite happy about it). Loki expressed regret that Phil wasn’t in attendance and said he wished to greet that brave warrior…until everybody in the room gave him The Look in unison. Then he groaned, “All right, all right, I just wanted to find out how the bastard lived!”

Thor assured his brother the Son of Coul was well and held no grudge against him. Pepper looked about to take issue with that assertion, but as prudent as ever, she held her tongue. After the brothers left, though, and everybody else was drifting off to bed, I caught her telling Tony, “You know how you’re always trying to persuade me to let you build me a suit? Maybe it’s time.”

With Thor and Loki’s consent, I did call a presser within a few days to update people on the new revelations about the Chitauri and Loki. I didn’t get in-depth about it, but it seemed only right that the public know that Loki was not the villain behind the scheme, but the first victim; that he regretted the harm done to New York, respected the citizens’ resilience (who doesn’t? it’s New York, for heaven’s sake) and was working privately to provide all the intel he could to thwart future attacks. After the 60 Minutes interview, people already knew that other planets now had Earth on their radar, so now they would know where to lodge the blame for the first attack, and that their protectors remained aware and on guard. The suggestion that the Avengers were even seeking to take legal action against an alien invader went over surprisingly well; obviously, it wasn’t as if Thanos could be arrested and brought in in handcuffs, but just the idea of forcing an adversary into the human legal system had an emotional appeal. Overall, it was, I thought, a good start. 

As usual, though, there were some you just could not satisfy. After the fourth or fifth TV interview with the same few contrarians griping about super-powered vigilantes, I was about ready to personally feed their highest-profile mouthpiece, General Thaddeus Ross, to the nearest den of bears. While that was, sadly, not a realistic option, I vented to Tony, who admitted his concern too, and we called a full team meeting. “I’m seeing a push coming for more government involvement with us. and with superheroes in general worldwide,” he said. “Other countries concede we’re doing good; hell, how can they not? Especially after the publicity we got from 60 Minutes when we emphasized working with enhanced locals in Sokovia, and then introduced you two as new Avengers.” He nodded at the Maximoffs; Pietro grinned and Wanda nodded. “But Chrissy’s right. I’ve had my ear to the ground online, which, granted, invokes a really weird mental image, but that’s beside the point. Social media talk is still overwhelmingly on our side, but intimations of concern about those bush-league heroes, about their safety, and their intentions, are starting to build. We’ve got to address them before our hands are forced.”

“I don’t like the idea of governments trying to rule us,” Steve said firmly. “They don’t know what we’re dealing with, and there’s no way they can.”

“One hundred percent with you on that score, Cap,” Tony returned, “but unless we want some jackass like Ross to get into a position of authority, and then drop a stack of docs the size of an old-school encyclopedia on us one day and say ‘sign this or walk’, we need to get out ahead of this.”

“It’s not just about us, like Tony says,” Clint added. “We know there are other people out there with powers of one kind or another. Pietro and Wanda can’t be the only ones. Hell, there’s stuff all over youtube, and it can’t all be faked.”

“My thought too, Katniss,” Tony agreed. “In fact, I’m starting to scour social media to look for them. Pep’s even offered to help. I’m thinking a two-pronged approach might poke Ross and his bunch in the ass with their own pitchforks here. First, we each put together a list of what we would and would definitely not want to see in a hypothetical multinational pact. There’s talk going around about the UN being brought in, to ensure the rights of civilians, but we have to speak up for ourselves and our rights too. Superheroes, enhanced individuals, whatever you want to call us. That way we’re prepared, if and when it happens, and it’s more likely to be _when_ than _if_. Second, as we identify persons we think might fit into our category, we all use our own unique networks to start reaching out to them. Not suggesting bringing them all into the Avengers, or under SHIELD’s umbrella; most of them aren’t going to want that anyway and there’d be no reason for it in most instances. We don’t need to adopt any more strays, as fond as we are of the ones we’ve got. _Barton_.”

“Hah,” Clint fired back. “This from the guy who takes calls from some kid in Tennessee with a potato gun every couple of weeks.”

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it. “No point in arguing with your two brain cells that are probably dancing a tango in rah-rah skirts right about now."

"My brain cells love their rah-rah skirts," Clint retorted. "They can really make them rah-rah."

"Back to the grown-up talk. I’m thinking we keep our SHIELD pals out of this loop, for right now. Plausible deniability, and all that shit. Just keep this among ourselves, until and unless something official starts coming down. Anybody we locate with powers is most likely just out there living their lives, maybe trying to use whatever talent they have to help those around them. Friendly neighborhood heroes, you might say. What we’d want to do is nothing more than assess their intent as best we can, and if they seem legit, let them know we have their backs and we will advocate for them.”

“Good thought,” Rhodey said. “I’ve got the active duty military hookup, and Sam’s got the veterans.”

“I can slip mentions into press releases and put feelers out to my acquaintances in the media,” I put in, “and Pepper can do the same at business meetings, conferences and the like.”

“Wanda and I have made friends from all over the world, since coming here!” Pietro spoke up. “And they know people, and they know other people.”

“Fuck only knows who you two know.” Tony pointed two fingers at Clint and Nat. Clint raised a good-natured finger of his own in return, and Nat gave a small secret smile. “Brucie-bear is going back to conferences and getting involved in the bioscience community again, that should be a veggie garden of info. Viz, and JARVIS and FRIDAY, can scan corners of the internet even I might not find, ping possibles and bring them to our attention. I’ve got ties to the medical community through the MSF and charity things. And, well, Captain America.” Steve still didn’t look convinced, but he gave a nod. “We can cover a lot of metaphorical ground, folks, so get your high-tops on and boogie!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint's brain cells and their rah-rah skirts are a small shout out to the utterly insane rp thread of the Lazy Stupid and Vengeful group at Ravelry. (waves)
> 
> One more chapter in this segment of our story! I'm going to be out of town for a few days, but I'm taking my laptop so I hope to be able to post it Tuesday or Wednesday. THEN, next weekend, we begin the Civil War/Homecoming section of the timeline, with Civility.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team's daily life is brightened by many events, though they remain seriously intent on being ready for future attacks. Chrissy is pleasantly surprised by her own progress in training to defend herself and those she cares about. The Maximoffs' last meeting to provide intel on HYDRA ends with a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of this story! a pretty long one too. Hope you enjoy, and as always, comments are coveted.

I didn’t personally have any luck unearthing new superheroes, but then, most of my time online was still spent doing the job I was actually getting paid for. The SI legal team that Pepper had dedicated to helping with Avengers business worked with me for weeks renegotiating our Lego deal, making sure the new team members got their own minifigures as well as fun upgrades to the originals. Ben and Jerry’s contacted us about an Avengers line of ice creams, which pleased the team even more. Star Spangled Sweet, Stark Raving Hazelnuts and Hunka Hulka Burning Fudge were the first trial flavors, followed by Black Widow’s White Russian and Raspberry Thor-bet. Clint tasted at least eight different proposed Hawkeye flavors and couldn’t decide, so that was his own damn fault, in my humble opinion.

One of the joys of my daily routine was prowling social media and hunting up posts that amused and sometimes embarrassed various people. The online yarncraft forum whose members enjoyed unabashedly smutty speculations about the carnal skills of the Avengers provided a good week and a half’s worth of entertainment. The most excited I’d gotten in ages was when the indie perfumer I’d introduced Pepper to years before emailed me about authorizing a line of fragrance oils in honor of the team. I passed my small collection around to be sniffed by all, kept a list of scent notes that hit and missed, but finally gave up and asked if we could get more samples. Instead, the week of Comic Con, the perfumer, her husband and daughter, and their entire booth turned up at the tower for an all-day meet and sniff. Tony bought half their stock, and they left with plans to mix scents to evoke the whole crew, and revive a rare limited edition called Iron Phoenix for him. Once Nat caught a whiff of their Obsidian Widow, though, she decided they didn’t have to make a new one just for her.

Between those and a couple of crafters making scented candles and waxes inspired by the Avengers, the tower smelled decidedly better as the day to day existence of a team of superheroes and a circle of friends continued. The warning of alien invasion in the back of our minds seemed to make everybody work harder in between more earth-bound concerns; Tony threw himself into designing a suit for Pepper, when he wasn’t huddling with diplomats and planning to take Asgard by storm, or working out options to protect the Mind stone if the Titan warlord came after it. The other Avengers trained like crazy, honing their own skills and helping each other. 

Me, I did what I was best at, using facts and truth and feelings as my tools to sculpt the public’s understanding of what their heroes did. However, with the thought in mind that I didn’t want to be a liability that my friends had to watch over if and when Thanos struck, I began to train harder myself. Maria, who was back at her duties as the Avengers’ liaison with SHIELD and shuttling between the tower and the compound, even sparred with me a few times, and I shocked myself by being, if not able to best her, at least keep up. I’d never been graceful, but something had changed in that time period, and my ability to move grew swifter and more sure.

I was even more delighted one day when I was alone in the team gym with music playing. I loved music and had reasonably good rhythm, but I’d never had the coordination to dance well, as much as I had always longed to. That day, though, just moving with the music, I found my motions more agile, nimble and downright flowing! It was stunning to think the training Clint and Nat had given me had carried over into totally unrelated realms, but I was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So why not explore this new world further? I asked JARVIS to pull up some beginner’s dance lesson videos online, and tried some moves while watching.

Outkast was bumping off the walls one day when I finished a surprisingly decent turn combo and ended up with Nat a foot away from my face. “Having fun?” she inquired. “I didn’t know you danced.”

“Neither did I,” I confessed. “J, pot that volume down please?” I grabbed my water bottle, we sat down on a nearby bench, and I explained. 

“That was my cover, growing up in the Red Room,” she said reflectively. “To anyone who got close enough to ask, it was put forth as a boarding school for girls with ballet talent, and we actually did dance quite a lot. It provides a good ground for learning combat skills. You just came at it in reverse, studying the self-defense first.”

I didn’t feel quite so weird hearing that, but I wasn’t about to stir up painful memories for my friend. ‘Figures I’d do things bass-ackwards,” I chuckled and got to my feet. “I'll get out of your way so you can work out.”

Her hand closed on my arm. “No, you aren’t going anywhere until I show you how to correctly do that turn you were just trying.”

She did, and half the day flew by as I watched her execute amazing jumps and kicks and positions. it was the first time, but far from the last, that we met and danced together in the gym. “Wish we had a studio here in the tower,” I sighed one day. “Nothing fancy, just something with mirrors and bars, and a floor with some give instead of this concrete. Maybe sometime I could go use your old place in Bed-Stuy, when there’s not a class in there?”

Nat got that tiny almost-smile she sometimes got when she had a secret that wasn’t life-threatening, something she might be about to tell, or at least blackmail somebody with for cookies. “Come with me,” she said, and I followed her out to the elevators and up to her floor. I’d visited her living quarters before, but not the rest of the floor; wandering around other people’s space was none of my business, after all. 

Down a corridor and through a swinging door was the studio I had imagined: neat and tidy, cubbyholes built in along the walls stocked with everything from toe shoes to towels. “Nat,” I breathed. “You…well of course you do, if Tony built Clint an archery range, he would know to build you a dance studio. But—this is your private place, hon. You didn’t have to bring me here.”

“It is my private place, when I choose for it to be so. JARVIS is very helpful in that regard. Thank you, by the way, JARVIS.”

“As always, Agent Romanoff, the pleasure is all mine,” the AI replied.

“And besides, at least one other Avenger uses it regularly, so It isn’t my exclusive preserve,” she added as she strode to a cubby, pulled out a pair of soft ballet slippers and sat down to put them on.

“Somebody else dances? Who?” She just smirked. “You’re gonna make me guess, aren’t you? Wench! Okay, not Thor, unless he knows courtly dance. I can’t imagine Bruce dancing, and everybody knows Steve’s got two left feet. Tony can hold his own at a social function, but that’s it as far as I know. His asshole dad would never have let him learn anything more, I’m sure, although if anybody ought to, it’d be him; the first time I ever saw him fly in the suit, he was so fluid in the air…Oh! Clint! Got to be Clint, of course. He’s always talking about all the freaky little side skills he picked up growing up in a circus, and I know he can do some gymnastics, so, yeah.”

“Final answer?” Nat asked, standing up and doing a few warmup stretches and turns.

“Final answer.” JARVIS emitted a buzzer-like noise whose meaning was plain. “Wrong?” I exclaimed. “Okay, are you counting the new folks, because if so I’ll have to start all over—”

“This a girls-only class?”

I spun at the sound of the voice. “Hey, Tony! Nat’s showing me her studio. It’s so great. You’re so great.”

“Yeah, well, as usual, it’s all about enlightened self-interest.” He strolled in with a grin, then, oddly, headed for a corner and toed his shoes off. “I wanted to put a studio in anyway, and hiding it away here on Itsy Bitsy’s floor killed multiple birds with one well-placed rock.”

“Hide it?” I frowned, confused, as he moved toward the middle of the room, rolling his shoulders and shifting his hips in his tank top and sweat pants. “Why would you want to…ohhhh.”

He shrugged, seeming a bit abashed. “I used to watch Jarvis, the real one, and his wife Ana dance when I was a kid. When I said I wanted to learn, they taught me a little, which is what I fall back on at society bashes. I wanted to dance, though, really dance. My dad, of course, wanted me to play sports, toughen up, but mom enrolled me in class anyway. She never would have told him to fuck off, but that—was kind of her fuck off, I guess. Once he saw it improved my balance and core strength, he didn’t flip out nearly as much as I expected.”

With that, he proceeded to execute an absolutely flawless triple jazz turn. My jaw reached terminal velocity before it hit the floor. Nat chuckled. “You should have seen me the first time he did that,” she said. “I had read all his files, and intellectually, I knew what I had read, but there’s a big difference between that and actually seeing it.”

“She nearly fell the fuck over,” Tony laughed. “It was seriously gratifying.”

“It would have been seriously gratifying if you’d had to explain to Fury how I got a concussion while supposedly safely tucked away in your tower,” Nat retorted but with no heat to the words at all.

“Just for that, I’m choosing a new dance partner.” Tony put his hands out. “C’mon cornbread, dance with me.”

The next time Clint was in New York, he tried to teach me to turn back flips (I didn’t exactly fail, but didn’t quite succeed either). Nat began to incorporate some dance moves into our sparring too. 

All work and no play makes superheroes or mundanes into hot messes, of course. In the course of helping Tony search the internet for leads on powered individuals living everyday lives, Pepper also managed to infect him with the fanfic bug. When I was tired and in need of a good giggle, it was always a blessing to wander into one of their offices or up to the penthouse and catch her explaining why Pepperony wasn’t spelled like pepperoni, or come upon them in some serious discussion about some arcane fictional concept. The conversations often went something like this:

Tony: “Amazing what people’s imaginations can come up with. Huh, maybe I really ought to try to build a tentacled sex robot for you, Pep.” 

Pepper: (slap) 

Tony: “Ow! What? They’ve thought of uses for the suit I never even considered…well, never dared consider, if I’m honest.”

Or:

Pepper: “Do…you suppose Thor knows there are stories out there where he has sex with his brother? _Graphic_ sex.”

Tony: “Well, you know, he did say Loki’s adopted, so I guess a case could be made that incest is in the eye of the—”

Pepper: (whaps Tony upside the head)

Tony: “Or, not. Never mind.”

My only disappointment was that I never seemed to turn up in any fanfics, in compromising or any other positions. Damn.

One day, though, instead of charming fake-bickering with Pep about the finer points of werewolf fanfic and which Avenger would have the bushiest tail, I found Tony in raptures of excitement. “I got one, cornbread,” he told me. “Check this youtube channel out. This can’t be fake. I was just on twitter minding my own business, well, when I wasn’t trolling haters or trying to drag Steve out of fights. My God, I fully empathize with Bucky Barnes now, trying to keep scrawny little Rogers from throwing hands back in the day. He’s as bad now, if not worse, slapping bigots around online. The struggle is real. Anyway! Somebody posted a link, so I wandered over, and—check this out.” 

JARVIS helpfully projected a crisp holo-image in the air, and I watched in amazement as a slim figure in a masked suit clearly cobbled together from a hoodie and sweatpants swung from building to building, firing something that resembled spiderwebs from its hands. “That is crazy! You think it’s legit, really?”

“J and I can’t see any shenanigans with the video. I need to hunt this spiderling up and make contact.”

“Well…whoever it is, they’re onviously just a kid.”

Tony looked puzzled. “Judging from the scale, they’ve got to be at least, what, fifteen or so? I was in college by then.”

I started to argue, and then paused. All Tony had to go by with regards to life experience was, of course, his own, and just as he had said, by fifteen he was in college and already half independent out of necessity. That served to skew the heck out of his frame of reference. “You were a genius, remember? This kid probably is not. I’m not saying,” I held up my hand to fend off protests, “that you shouldn’t try to locate him or her. I’m just saying, don’t go racing in like an eager recruiter! I don’t think you would anyway, not deliberately, but you do let your enthusiasm get the better of you sometimes, admit it. Spider-kid can probably use some help, maybe even some mentoring.”

Tony clutched at his chest. “Do not put that kind of guilt trip on me, Everhart! Can you see me mentoring anybody? I can’t even make my own bots behave! I’m a disaster on two feet.”

“You are not,” I snorted. “All that said, though, I think it’s a great idea to try to get in touch. The kid probably feels all alone. Just let them know they aren’t.”

After all the wrangling, Tony finally decided to hold off on pursuing the young hero until the fast-approaching diplomatic mission to Asgard was completed. That turned out to be one of the wisest decision he had made in all the years I had known him, since said mission ran longer than we expected and was…eventful, to put it mildly. That’s another story for another time, though. 

Things were rolling along pretty steadily, until the day I spent a whole afternoon in a tense meeting with copyright attorneys and decided I needed fresh air, the company of my girlfriends, and maybe a nice stiff drink. When I reached the roof, though, I found Pepper and Wanda flanking Nat on the wicker settee, all looking distressed. “Y’all? What’s up?”

The shaken look on Nat’s face was anything but characteristic of the fierce Black Widow. “Bruce left.”

“Uh, do what now?” I demanded.

“Ever since Ultron, he’s been struggling.” She was sitting half bent forward, elbows on her thighs, hands clasped in front of her, but as I came around to kneel in front of her, she straightened. “He said he almost took the quinjet and kept going after Novigrad, but he couldn’t do it without a word to anybody. He…wants to find a place where he can be alone for a while, maybe start to work with the Hulk instead of against him.”

Wanda’s eyes were big with unshed tears. “This is my fault, Natasha,” she said. “If I had not listened to HYDRA, and let them use me to try and break him—”

“It wasn’t.” Nat shook her head vehemently. “It wasn’t your fault, Wanda. If you hadn’t hit him, something else would have. In fact, he said that your coming to us made it easier for him. He lasted longer; but in the end, he was going to have to go. I offered to go with him, but he seems to think I’m breakable.”

“In all fairness, Nat,” Pepper said gently, “compared to the Hulk, Iron Man is breakable. Pretty sure you would be too, if something happened and he lost all control. Imagine how Bruce would feel then, if he came back to himself and found you hurt.” Trust Pep, I thought, to always be the strong shoulder, the common sense. “Did he say where he was going, or how long he thought he would be?”

“He wasn’t sure. Once he settles, he’ll put the quinjet he took on autopilot and send it back until he’s ready to come…come home.” Nat ran one hand across her mouth and sighed.

“Well, dammit.” I took her hands in mine. “He could’ve let a bitch know. I would’ve made him a batch of my mom’s biscuits to take with him.” That made Nat laugh; we had all seen the Hulk eat two dozen of those at one sitting. “Stay in shape, so you can beat him up when he gets back.” I reached out and put my arms around her. Pep moved in, and after a second, still uncertain, Wanda joined us in the group hug. 

“Tony’s gonna kill him,” Pep murmured.

“Lord, yeah,” I agreed. “Thank heavens at least we’ve got Pietro to help out in the lab. Has he started his college classes yet, Wands?”

“Not for a few more weeks. We are staying the night here; we have one more meeting tomorrow morning to review all the information we have given to the authorities about HYDRA. Maria is having us here at her office. It is both private and familiar.” Wanda finally smiled. “It makes me glad, that people accept us here, now.”

“Absolutely.” I squeezed her once and stood up. “My cousin sent me a big bottle of homemade coffee liqueur. Anybody want to help me mix it with some chocolate milk and enjoy it?”

We killed most of the recycled wine bottle full of booze, and Nat was, certainly not happy, but at least comforted, when we all saw her off to bed. The next morning, I met the twins on the elevator and wished them a good ‘graduation’ from debriefing.

It was a relatively calm and quiet morning. I should have known that never bodes well where Avengers are concerned. Near noon, I developed a mighty craving for one of the killer Reubens from the little deli two blocks down. It was a lovely mild day, and a walk sounded good. “Hey JARVIS, which team members are in the tower, and where are they located?” I asked as I got on the elevator.

“Sir and Miss Potts are in their all-day meeting with the investors from Ireland. The Maximoffs are still debriefing with Miss Hill, with Captain Rogers and Agent Romanov observing.”

Pep was having lunch catered for their massive get-together, so I stopped off at the SI security floor and down to Maria’s office suite. A quiet word to her assistant got me shown around to the small observation room, where Nat and Steve stood before the one-way mirror. “Hey,” I breathed as I slipped in. “Sorry to bother, but I’m heading out to get lunch. Wondered if I could interest anybody in joining me, or pick y’all up something.”

“Thanks,” Steve smiled, “but we’re all heading back up to the compound together as soon as the twins and Maria finish up, so we thought we’d eat on the way. You’re welcome to join us.”

“They’re almost done,” Nat put in from her perch by the glass. “We wanted to hear the summation, but we didn’t want to intimidate them, hence, here we are.”

Maria’s voice came through the speakers from the next room, where she sat around a small table with Wanda and Pietro. “—seems to cover everything. Can either of you think of anything else you’ve remembered since then, anything we haven’t talked about?”

They looked at each other with adorably matching puckers in their brows. “Oh!” Wanda said suddenly. “The man in Novigrad, _bratr_ , remember? You thought of his name!”

“That’s right!” Pietro snapped his fingers. “I think we told you about him, Miss Hill; the man we saw evacuating civilians, during the fight with Ultron. We thought we knew him, from our time with HYDRA, and the more I thought the more I was certain.”

“We did not know him well,” Wanda added. “We only saw him occasionally, and had not for a long while before we met the Avengers. I don’t think his base of operations was in Sokovia. HYDRA sent him all over the world, from snatches that I heard people say. I don’t know what his work for them was.”

“Not sure what his actual name was either,” Pietro finished, “but I remembered a few nights back, when we were talking, that a couple of times, I heard an agent call him Zima.”

Nat went very still. In the other room, the twins were signing off on their statements, and Maria was thanking them and gathering her things. Steve cocked his head in puzzlement when Nat hopped off the obs window ledge and shot out the door to intercept the little group. “Wanda,” I caught her voice, low and urgent, as we followed her out, “we were listening—didn’t want to interrupt so we stayed out here. The name you said at the very end, the HYDRA op you saw in Sokovia—does it have the same meaning in your language as in Russian?”

Wanda frowned. “I think so…?”

“Winter?” Nat pressed, and the younger woman nodded. “If you saw a picture of him, do you think either of you would recognize him?”

“Probably.” Pietro looked briefly confused, then brightened. “You think you know him, Widow?”

“Maybe.” Nat started to turn. “Or maybe somebody else does.” She finished turning and fixed Steve with a look. “The drawings you did after SHIELD fell—you still have them?”

Steve’s eyes got bigger than I’d ever seen them get. “The originals are in my quarters at the compound, but I gave them to Tony to scan…” 

Without another word he bolted off down the corridor toward the elevators. That’s when all the pieces clicked together like mental Legos in my head. “Nat,” I gulped, “you think…well yeah, it totally could be…damn. Kiss my ass. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Nat echoed, managing somehow to look excited and sad at the same time. Wanda and Pietro looked thoroughly baffled. “HYDRA had an operative they called the Winter Soldier,” Nat explained. “He escaped them, a year or so before we first met you two. We think he’s been attacking their bases, and his being in Sokovia near that last major one at that time would be logical.”

“And that would explain so odd a name to call him.” Pietro caught on instantly, with his sister not far behind. “You have pictures of this man?”

“Steve fought him, and drew sketches later,” Nat told them. “That’s what he’s gone to get.”

No sooner than the words were spoken. Steve came into sight with a handful of paper. “I just got JARVIS to pull the scans and print them off.”

He handed them to Pietro, who took one look and began to nod vigorously. “Yes! Yes, this is the man. Is it not, _sestra_?” 

He turned them to show to Wanda, and she let out a small squeak. “Absolutely. The eyes, so pretty, I would remember those anywhere. So, our Zima, he is your Winter Soldier?”

“He is.” Steve sounded as though he was forcing the words out. “But before he was either, he was Bucky Barnes, and he was my best friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, some of y'all spotted a certain winter soldier in Sokovia! (applauds) But did anybody guess when Nat wouldn't tell which other Avenger danced? I just couldn't resist. We will peek into the studio once or twice in our next story too.
> 
> Chrissy calling Wanda 'Wands' is not a typo btw, it's a nickname. :)
> 
> Nat and Thor's ice cream flavors were borrowed from a reddit poster; Steve's I made up. The perfumes mentioned actually exist (thank you Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab), as do the candles and wax melts, though they are not associated with the Avengers officially or otherwise. The smut-loving knitters alluded to also exist and are great friends of mine. :D
> 
> I hope to write some inserts to this series once the main story line is done. One of them will hopefully be Tony and Chrissy's adventures in Asgard. (Another will be some multiverse shenanigans, wherein another verse's Tony visits the Wordsmith verse...any suggestions?)
> 
> This weekend, chapter 1 of Civility will go up, I hope! Prepare yourselves for a very different version of the events of Captain America Civil War (with some bits of Spider-Man Homecoming thrown in for good measure, since Tony has found Peter!).


End file.
